


For I will always stoop to his lure

by shovel_bunny



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: #coulsonlives, M/M, Spoilers, magic and mayhem abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 01:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shovel_bunny/pseuds/shovel_bunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barton has disappeared overnight and a large angry hawk is the only clue left behind.  Phil and the rest of the Avengers are determined to do whatever it takes to get him back.  Inspired by numerous fairy tales and folk tales.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at something a little longer and with more plot than my usual fare. As always concrit is particularly appreciated.  
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own foolish fault.

‘Agent Coulson. Agent Coulson. Sir, please wake up.’ 

Phil is awake the instant Jarvis calls his name but he’s still a little bleary as he checks the time - 03:14 am. Waking properly seems to take a little longer than it used to since the ‘Loki incident’ as they now refers to it and his head feels stuffed with cotton wool.

‘Who is it, Jarvis?’ he asks, already knowing it must be one of the Avengers because any other SHIELD related emergency would be coming through on his phone not Tony’s AI. 

‘It’s Agent Barton, sir. I can’t contact him. He always asks for all but the most basic of surveillance to be turned off in his suite so I can’t be certain exactly what has happened in his room. However, I can tell you that one moment he was asleep in his bed and the next the sensor reading for his mass changed from that of a man to something considerably smaller.’

‘What does that mean, Jarvis? Can’t you give me more than that to go on?’ Phil’s already pulling on a tshirt and snagging his gun from the bedside cabinet as he heads for the door to his suite.

‘I’m sorry, Agent Coulson. All the sensors in Agent Barton’s room now appear to be malfunctioning. Shall I wake Sir and the rest of the Avengers?’

‘Yep, do it. Get them to meet me outside Barton’s rooms please, Jarvis.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Phil hears Jarvis’ voice echoing through the Avenger’s floors of Stark Tower as he sprints through the corridors towards Barton’s rooms. Possibly he’s overreacting by waking everyone, but it’s only a month or so after Loki and after what Barton went through then he’s not taking any chances. He stops outside the outer door to Barton’s rooms and knocks politely, just in case. After all Jarvis had said the surveillance sensors were malfunctioning and it’s within the realms of possibility that all he’s going to be faced with here is an annoyed and sleepy Clint Barton. Of course, this is the Avengers and they’re never going to be that lucky, Phil can hear something moving around inside the rooms but it doesn’t sound like Barton.

Natasha is next on the scene, a concerned frown on her face and gun in her hand, swiftly followed by Steve wearing pyjamas but carrying his shield and a sleepy confused looking Bruce. Stark who has the furthest to come arrives last and from the goggles on his head and the grease smeared all over everything its clear he’s come straight from his workshop, but he has the Iron Man bracelets attached to his wrists and mouth open to ask questions already.

Phil holds up a hand, ‘I assume Jarvis has told all of you what he told me when he woke me and I don’t have anything more yet. Jarvis, I need you to open this door on my mark, then we’re going to go in quietly,’ he says with a pointed look at Stark, ‘and find out what’s going on in there.’

Tight nods from all round, even Stark, reassure him that they’re not going to shoot first and ask questions later. Taking a deep breath, he calls out, ‘Jarvis, now’ and as the door sweeps open he lets Steve go in first, shield up, Natasha right behind him and then he enters himself, eyes sweeping rapidly for signs of intrusion or anything out of the ordinary. The living quarters show nothing unusual and the Avengers sweep the kitchen and spare bedroom swiftly but there’s nothing, no sign of a struggle. The only place left is the master bedroom where Clint was apparently sleeping peacefully until about ten minutes ago. Phil’s heart is pounding in a way that really isn’t good for him at this stage in his recovery as he rests his hand on the door handle and looks at Steve who raises his shield and nods. Phil flings the door open and Steve barrels through and then stops dead blocking the way.

‘Um, Agent Coulson, I think you need to see this,’ Steve sounds baffled as he steps aside and lets Phil and the others through. There’s no sign of Barton in the room. Instead there is a large and angry looking hawk sitting on the headboard of Barton’s rumpled bed.

Phil stares at it. It glares back, cocking its head to one side and opening its beak to let out a loud cry.

Phil glances back over his shoulder at the others and raises an eyebrow, ‘Anybody get anything to offer on why Barton is apparently missing and instead we have a large bird of prey in his bedroom?’

A confused babble of voices and questions is the response as they all try to crowd past and into the room to see for themselves. At the noise and movement, the hawk extends its wings and flaps them menacingly, opening its beak to hiss at them. 

‘I know Barton’s a world class prank meister but this is going a step too far isn’t it?’ Stark looks round almost hopeful that someone will contradict him. ‘He wouldn’t deliberately stash a hawk in here and then hide somewhere so he could laugh at us later would he?’

Phil doesn’t bother to dignify that with an answer, as Natasha glares Stark into submission instead. He tries not to notice that Bruce and Steve are both looking around as though expecting Clint to materialise out of thin air the way he sometimes does at the SHIELD offices and let them in on the joke.

‘And why is it always Barton they’re going after anyway?’ Stark apparently has no self-preservation instincts, he’s standing way too close to Natasha as he continues running his mouth off, ‘Surely any of us - me for example - make just as attractive a target for kidnapping or whatever? I mean I’m rich, a genius and hot, so why not me right? Or Steve?’ 

‘Tony! For goodness sake, not everything’s about you. Besides you’re covered in oil and grease just now, hardly your most attractive look.’ Steve looks like he’s thinking about gagging Stark with something to shut him up and not about what he’s actually saying.

‘What? I’m totally rocking the hot mechanic vibe here,’ Stark mutters as he looks down at himself.

Phil clears his throat loudly, ‘I think we’ll have to assume that as there’s no sign of Agent Barton here, that someone or something has taken him and left this bird in his place. Do we know anyone who might be able to do this or who would want to?’ Phil feels a cold sense of dread take hold in the pit of his stomach as he thinks of Loki again and his eyes meet Natasha’s worried ones.

‘Loki,’ is the answer that falls from every mouth almost instantaneously. 

‘I think Thor would have been in touch by now if Loki has managed to escape again; but Bruce, can you take charge of getting in contact with Thor and finding out if they can tell us anything? Try contacting Jane Foster if you need to,’ Phil smiles tiredly at the scientist.

‘Of course,’ Bruce turns and heads back out of the room, pulling his phone from his pocket as he goes.

The hawk meanwhile has apparently had enough of people standing around and staring at it and it launches itself from the headboard and out of the bedroom door. Fortunately Jarvis had closed the outer door to the suite after they’d entered and as they scramble to follow it out of the door and into the living room they see the bird attempting to manoeuvre around the confined space awkwardly. It circles and then swoops towards them, causing everyone to duck and point weapons at it. Shrieking, it veers off and perches on the back of a couch, looking at them almost accusatorially. Phil feels as though he’s missing something important here but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

‘Jarvis, we need to run all the surveillance data from the Tower for the last 24 hours. I want to know who’s had access to the Tower, anybody who may have accessed these levels who wouldn’t normally. Anything out of the ordinary at all. Somehow, someone managed to get this rather conspicuous bird in here and Barton out, presumably against his will, and I want to know how.’

‘Certainly, Agent Coulson, where would you like me to show the data?’

‘Put it up on the screen in here, Jarvis’, Stark moves to stand in front of the flat screen built into the living room wall and Natasha and Steve join him. While they’re all distracted the hawk takes advantage and glides silently across to land on Phil’s shoulder where it flaps awkwardly as Phil curses and jumps, digging its talons into the flesh as it struggles for balance. 

‘Jesus Christ!’ A tshirt is no protection against the sharp talons and Phil can only be grateful the bird had chosen his right shoulder rather than the left where they would be digging into the still tender scar tissue. The bird makes a soft noise in its throat and begins to preen Phil’s hair with its beak.

Stark is staring, mouth dropped open, and even Natasha has an eyebrow raised as the hawk’s beak runs through Phil’s hair again and again. Stark appears to be groping for his phone in his pocket, undoubtedly to film this for posterity, ‘I think it likes you, Coulson. Maybe its a lady hawk and it finds you irresistible, just like all the other girls.’

‘Just because Pepper and I have normal conversations from time to time doesn’t mean you should be jealous, Stark,’ Coulson grits out as a thought occurs to him. He raises his left hand and cautiously reaches up to stroke the feathers on the chest of the hawk on his shoulder. ‘Maybe it’s just pure chance, but the hawk landed on my right shoulder instead of the left where my scars are.’

Natasha catches on quickly as always, ‘You think that _is_ Clint?’ She steps closer and reaches out a hand to stroke at the feathers too. The bird stops preening Phil’s hair and cocks its head at her but allows her to stroke it. 

‘No way,’ Stark mutters as he too walks across and reaches out. The hawk waits until his hand is almost touching and then strikes with its beak.

‘Fuck,’ he yells, whipping his hand away, but when he looks down there’s no blood, just a slight red mark where the bird nipped him. He glares as the bird cocks its head from side to side and its mouth gapes open. ‘Is it? Fucking hell! Is that damn bird laughing at me? Fuck, maybe it really is Barton. Its got his twisted sense of humour.’

Phil can feel the smirk on his face as Stark rubs at his hand. ‘Stark, I need you to get down to your workshop. We need some sort of tracking device that can be fitted to a ring for its leg. We can’t be sure that this is Barton but equally we can’t be sure it isn’t and it’s currently the only link we do have to what happened here this morning. I don’t want to take any chances on losing it.’

‘Sure,’ he frowns down at his hand again but Phil can see it’s because that brilliant brain of his is working already. ‘Jarvis, can you bring up everything you can find about ringing birds and have it ready to go in the workshop?’

‘Of course, Sir. I’ll have it ready when you get there.’

‘Thanks buddy,’ Stark calls and he’s already on the move. ‘Don’t make it too complicated, Tony, we just need something that we can track and that won’t break down too quickly,’ Phil calls after him, but the other man’s already lost in his thoughts, muttering under his breath and doesn’t acknowledge that he’s even heard Phil.

‘Tasha, I need you to contact SHIELD and report what’s happened here. Get Fury or Hill and brief them on everything we know and what we’re doing. It’s possible they may be able to contact Thor quicker than we can and we could really use somebody with Allspeak right now. Then find Banner and ask him to go through all the available data from Barton’s rooms last night? I want him looking for anything unusual, any fluctuations or spikes of energy that might indicate portals opening in here or whatever. Something happened here and there must be some sort of evidence.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Natasha turns on her heel and strides from the suite and that just leaves Phil, the hawk on his shoulder and a worried super soldier. 

‘That doesn’t look very comfortable,’ Steve nods at Phil’s shoulder where blood is starting to ooze through his tshirt from the hawk’s talons. ‘No it isn’t particularly,’ Phil replies with a tired smile. 

‘I’ll go see what I can do about getting some sort of padding or something worked out for your shoulder but in the meantime you might want to see if you can persuade it to perch somewhere else.’ Steve leaves as well and now it’s just Phil and a large ungainly hawk perched on his shoulder in Barton’s empty suite. As the adrenaline begins to wear off, the tiredness creeps back in and Phil suddenly feels as old as time. The bird is weighing down his shoulder and flexing its talons in a painful fashion so he walks as steadily as he can to the couch and then pauses suddenly uncertain how to persuade the bird to shift from his shoulder onto the back of the couch. He doesn’t need to, the hawk preens its beak through the hair above his temple once more and hops from his shoulder to the couch where it fluffs its feathers out and then settles, apparently content to stay put where it can keep an eye on Phil.

Sighing, Phil grabs a tablet sitting on the low table in front of the couch and then plonks himself down on the couch. ‘Well, whether you’re Clint or not, you’re probably hungry and I have no idea what or how to feed you. Perhaps we’d better start with identifying what type of hawk you are, eh?’ Phil would feel dumb about talking out loud to the bird but it peers back at him and shuffles along the back of the couch until its closer to him and then does a damn good impression of looking at the tablet over his shoulder.

Identifying hawks turns out to be a bit trickier than Phil had thought given the number of species and variants throughout the world. Shutting down a tab he decides to try again and starts working through species from the American continent first. If he comes up blank there he’ll move further afield afterwards. He’s aware that Jarvis could probably do this instantly and that he’s using the task to avoid thinking about the fact that Barton’s missing. Again. At least last time they’d known who’d taken him and what had happened. This time they have nothing to go on. Yet. He has to trust that his team will come up with something. A sharp squawk from near his shoulder brings him back to himself and he focuses on the image of the hawk on the screen in front of him.

‘A Harris hawk, huh? Yeah, that looks pretty accurate.’ A quick scan through the information on the page confirms that the hawk’s normal diet would include small mammals, lizards, birds and large insects. ‘Well, I don’t think Clint kept any of that stocked in his fridge here but let me just check what he does have.’ Phil checks the fridge in the suite’s kitchen but as he suspected it’s almost bare. The Avengers tend to eat together in the communal quarters and almost all the food is kept there.

‘Jarvis, can you ask Captain Rogers to check the kitchen for any meat we may have in there. We need something raw, cut up into fairly small chunks I think, to feed our new resident. Um, chicken would probably do at a push.’

‘Certainly, Agent Coulson, I shall pass on your message straight away.’

‘Thanks, Jarvis. Oh by the way, can you confirm that this bird is a Harris hawk for me?’

‘Yes, sir... Yes, that is indeed _Parabuteo unicinctus_ , the Harris hawk, native to South America I believe, but fairly widespread now, particularly as they are often used in falconry and have been known to escape on occasion and breed.’

‘Thank you, Jarvis.’ Phil takes a low rimmed bowl from one of the shelves and fills it with water before placing it in the middle of the living room where the bird should be able to reach it easily enough. Returning to the couch, Phil takes a moment to have a really good look at the hawk. The bird’s plumage is mainly dark brown, with chestnut over its shoulders, the tops of its legs and the edges of the feathers on its wings. Its legs and the base of its beak are bright yellow and the end of its tail is tipped with white. Dark brown eyes ringed with yellow peer back at Phil as he examines it.

‘You’re beautiful,’ Phil tells it softly, reaching up with a hand to smooth down over the feathered chest. ‘You’re just the sort of bird I would expect Barton to be turned into if that is what happened. Powerful, sleek, beautiful and undoubtedly deadly, just like him really...’ A yawn cuts him off and he eases further back into the couch still looking at the bird, wondering if it really could be Clint behind the lovely eyes or if in fact he is somewhere else entirely, lost and alone again. 

He closes his eyes abruptly. God, they’ve only just got him back; he’s only just getting back to his true self after Loki’s mindgames. All things considered, he’s done remarkably well, assuaging the guilt of his actions under Loki’s control by throwing himself into the Avengers Initiative with an enthusiasm he’d never shown for it before. Phil feels the corners of his mouth twitch up as he remembers Clint’s jokes about the Initiative, never vicious even at his most cutting, but making it clear that he thought it was probably doomed to failure. Natasha told him about how Clint jumped straight into action as soon as his head was his own again and how perfectly he had slotted into the team. Phil wants him back, wants to hear him wisecracking with Stark and teasing Bruce and Steve. Wants to watch him interacting with Natasha without any words needed, wants his voice at the other end of the comms and his calm quietness in Phil’s office when he has paperwork to do. He doesn’t want to think about what might be happening to Clint now, about what his captors might be doing to him or why he might have been taken.

He opens his eyes and plasters a bland expression on his face as footsteps approach in the corridor outside. It won’t do the others any good to see him worry. Steve pokes his head around the door, slightly apprehensively, as though he’s expecting the hawk to swoop down at him the second he comes in. Taking in the pair of them settled on the couch, he comes in carrying a first aid kit and some sort of leather and fabric contraption in one hand and a plate with small chunks of meat on it in the other. He’s also now wearing his full Captain America suit and Phil appreciates his readiness to move the second they get any news.

‘Do we try to feed it by hand or just put it down somewhere and see if it will feed itself?’ he asks.

‘No idea,’ Phil replies, ‘try putting it over by the water and I guess if it’s hungry it’ll at least try to feed itself.’

‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ Steve admits, ‘I’m not sure I want to put my fingers near its beak just yet. It looks angry.’

Phil looks up at the hawk but it doesn’t look any different to him, ‘I think that’s just how it looks all the time.’

Steve grins, ‘Want to take that tshirt off and let me have a look at your shoulder?’ Phil shrugs but shifts forward and strips the shirt off. Steve winces but Phil knows it’s from seeing the mess of still healing scar tissue on the other side of his chest rather than the newest scratches. Steve kneels next to him and uses an antiseptic wipe to clean the blood from the small puncture wounds. Phil tries his hardest to control the flush he can feel rising in his cheeks but his childhood hero is kneeling next to him examining his shoulder with gentle hands while he sits half naked and he still hasn’t quite gotten over the sheer joy of working and sometimes living with Captain America yet. Strangely, though it’s the keen scrutiny of the hawk that makes him feel most uncomfortable as it watches them intently. 

Steve smears some antiseptic cream over the wounds and stands up. ‘I don’t think there’s much else to be done for those just now. As long as you wear something a bit more substantial over them next time our feathered friend here decides to hitch a ride.

Phil nods his thanks and slips the tshirt back on. ‘Actually, I’d quite like to go and put something a bit more substantial on now if that’s ok? Would you mind staying here while I go change and check how the others are getting on?’

Steve gives the hawk a distinctly dubious look and he’s clearly not happy about being left alone with it. The bird ruffles its feathers and squawks too but Steve nods and settles in one of the armchairs across from the bird, ‘I’m sure we’ll be just fine until you get back, Agent Coulson.’

So Phil leaves them, the hawk and the national icon, looking nervously at each other across the living space of Barton’s quarters and goes back to his own rooms to put some proper clothes on.


	2. Chapter 2

Phil goes straight to the bathroom of his suite and his takes his meds for the day. The SHIELD doctors have got him on a cocktail of so many drugs he could probably open a drugstore if he ever needs a new job. He knocks them back with water and sets the glass back on the shelf before stripping and showering quickly. Towelling dry afterwards he makes sure to check over his scars carefully; they’re brutal and ugly, still pink and tender when he probes at them with steady fingers, but its a damn sight better than being dead. 

He gives thanks once again that SHIELD’s R&D team took such offence at having Tony Stark’s technology showing them up all the time that they’d effectively gone into overdrive in the last few years and so in a bizarre twist, without even knowing it, Stark saved Phil’s life. He doesn’t quite understand the nanotechnology that was used to splice him back together, but he does know it’s a recent and highly classified research project. Even Banner had been impressed, trying his hardest to explain to Phil about the nanoshells and infrared laser that welded the tissues of his heart and arteries back together and the biodistribution drugs he’s taking to keep everything in working order. Experimental nanoengineering brought him back from the dead and now the drugs are helping him to heal far faster than anyone could have expected. Its still slow going though, or at least it feels that way to Phil, miracle of science or no, and there could still be serious side effects that can’t yet be predicted. He’ll just have to deal with that when and if it happens but it’s why he’s so careful to check the scars, making sure nothing’s coming unglued or getting infected.

Satisfied that everything is still holding together he moves back into the bedroom and selects a suit from the closet. He hasn’t worn one since he left the hospital, sweats and tshirts, jeans and sweaters have been his recovery uniform, but by God one of his team is missing and he will not be sitting this one out. He sits on the bed to pull socks and shoes on, wincing as the muscles in his chest flex and stretch with the movement. Phil sits for a moment to catch his breath, elbows resting on his knees. It feels good to be back in a suit, its his uniform against the world, his battle armour, and he already feels more composed, more in control just by settling the jacket over his shoulders. 

He drops his head into his hands and takes a deep breath as he considers their next move. As he closes his eyes he tries not to think that its been well over an hour now since they were alerted to Clint’s disappearance and given that he’s had no word from Bruce, Natasha or Jarvis it doesn’t seem as though they’re any further forward. 

It would have to be Clint wouldn’t it? He’s always been a magnet for trouble, though it’s fair to say that he doesn’t tend to go looking for it these days like he did before SHIELD picked him up. He remembers the relief and unconcealed happiness on Clint’s face when the Avengers were first allowed to visit Phil, when the medics moved him out of the isolation unit, still barely able to stay awake for more than ten minutes at a time. He remembers it so clearly and it haunts him now that they’ve lost the archer again. Tasha and Clint have been sticking so close to Phil since he was released from the hospital that it might have been stifling if it wasn’t for the almost gravitational pull between Phil and Clint these days. 

Tasha rolls her eyes at them for being so slow to catch on, for taking years to realise that the slow burn of underlying attraction is mutual. Just yesterday Tasha had been sitting with her feet in Clint’s lap while they sprawled on a couch in the communal lounge; Phil looked up from his book and had the breath stolen right out of his lungs by the lazy smile on Clint’s face as he watched Phil with heavy lidded eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that Phil’s recently cobbled together heart might burst from the strain he would’ve been taking advantage of the promises Clint’s hungry smiles have been making. Turns out that while near-death experiences in SHIELD are not unusual, actual-death experiences can really kick your priorities into order and Phil’s main priority recently has been to recover as quickly as possible so that he can kiss the hell out of Clint Barton.

He has a new priority now though and he needs to go muster his troops. The soft tone of his SHIELD phone goes off from the bedside cabinet and Phil groans as he sees ‘Fury’ on the caller ID along with several missed calls.

‘Coulson.’

‘Phil, what the hell is going on over there? Romanov reported that Barton has disappeared and a goddamn eagle was left in his place.’

‘It’s a Harris Hawk, sir, not an eagle but yes, that’s about what it adds up to.’

‘Ok, I want the bird, whatever it is, brought in to SHIELD. I want every test known to man run on the damn thing to see what it can tell us. And Phil, I want you to stay put. You aren’t cleared for active duty yet and I don’t want you involved. The medics say the stress of this could quite literally kill you, you hear me? That’s an order, Coulson.’

Phil wants to bang his head against a wall in frustration but he keeps his voice calm by force of will alone, ‘Nick, I’m not doing a damn thing here. Rogers is watching the hawk, Stark’s constructing a tracker so they can ring it just in case, Banner and Romanov are going through all the tower’s surveillance and sensor data to see if they can work out what happened and I’m sitting here in my bedroom while one of my agents, one of the Avengers, is missing.’ 

There’s a pause on the other end of the line and Phil frowns as he tries to work out what Fury’s thinking. ‘Alright, tell Romanov to keep me briefed if anything happens before they can get the bird shipped here. Listen to me; I know you want to be out there looking for him, Phil, but you killing yourself won’t get him back and I sure as hell ain’t gonna be the one to tell Hawkeye that you’re dead. Again.’

‘I’ll get them on their way to SHIELD as soon as the tracker is fitted and working, sir,’ and if Phil sounds tired and worn down, its probably because he feels it. Fury sighs, ‘Copy that, Coulson’ and hangs up.

Phil pockets the phone and takes a deep breath as he stands. Time to go and see what the team has come up with. First stop is Natasha and Bruce in his lab. Bruce is poring over technical data on the screens he has up, while Natasha, who’s also now in her suit has gone back to studying the surveillance footage.

‘Anything?’ Natasha shakes her head, ‘Nothing. I’ve been through the last twelve hours and nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody’s tried to get up here from any direction. We’re running the previous twelve hours now.’

Phil nods, that’s as much as any of them had expected, security in the tower is second to none. ‘What orders did Fury give you regarding me? he asks and she cocks an eyebrow at him, the corners of her lips turning up just slightly, ‘That at the first opportunity I get I’m to sedate you and have Jarvis keep you secure and monitored,’ she grins and nods at his suit, ‘nice to see you back Agent,’ but she doesn’t bother to hide the concern in her voice. Phil grins back at her, glad as always to know she’s got his back even if she’s also got her doubts. ‘He should know us both better than that by now.’

When he turns to Bruce, he finds the scientist watching them, that soft quiet smile on his face. Phil likes Bruce a lot, compared to the rest of the Avengers being in his quiet contained presence is like balm to his soul some days. But just now he needs Bruce’s genius to have spotted something useful, he needs him to have found them something to go on. He doesn’t even have to ask, Bruce just starts talking.

‘I may have something but it’s not much and I don’t know if we can make it useful. As Jarvis said, Clint asked for the surveillance cameras to be switched off, but Tony makes sure that there are always some back up sensors in every room. They monitor vital signs and the like so that if someone stops breathing during the night or has a heart attack Jarvis can get help there immediately.’ Bruce smiles up at them again, ‘I guess he likes to take care of us in his own way. So that’s how Jarvis knew that something was wrong; there was a sudden change in Barton’s mass, and I mean sudden, one second a full grown man was lying in that bed, the next a large hawk was sitting on it. There’s no indication that anybody or anything else entered the room at any point. Surveillance cameras in the hall outside show that Barton’s door didn’t open at any point after he went in there and there are no other mass readings for anybody else in the room at any point during the night.’

‘Could Barton have left via a window or some other method?’ Phil knows that there’s no way Clint would have left without letting either him or Tasha know, not just now, they’re all still too jumpy from the Loki incident, but they have to discount all the possibilities.

‘None of the windows were opened during the night and the sensors show Barton moving around his rooms and then going to bed, where he stayed until whatever happened. Jarvis and I have been over everything and there is a definite spike of energy in the room, instantaneous with the change in mass. It’s not anything I recognise and we’re running simulations and comparisons now to try to pinpoint what it was.’

‘A portal of some kind? Could someone have opened a portal and dragged Barton through it leaving the hawk behind without actually stepping through?’ Phil’s hands clench by his sides. If Clint’s gone through a portal they may have no way of tracing him, he could be anywhere and after what they’ve seen recently the possibility of another planet is not out of the question.

‘Or opened a portal and changed Hawkeye into a hawk without coming through?’ Natasha asks.

Bruce shakes his head, ‘Too early to say for certain just now but I don’t think so, the energy signatures don’t match those we saw when Loki opened the portal using the Tesseract. Not even similar. I don’t know what this is but I don’t believe any sort of portal was opened in Clint’s suite last night.’ He looks up at them both and sighs running a hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry I can’t give you more to go on yet. We may be able to say more if we can perform some tests and scans on the hawk but I don’t have the right equipment here.’

Phil rests a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, ‘Thank you. You’ve come up with the only concrete evidence we have that something unusual occurred in Barton’s room last night and that he hasn’t just gone for a walk and left us a new pet. Fury has ordered that the bird be taken to SHIELD for testing so you and Stark should go along and combine your efforts with theirs to see what we can come up with.’ Bruce nods before turning back to the energy data.

As he turns to go and find Stark, Phil calls out to Natasha, ‘Any luck trying to contact Thor?’

‘Not so far. As far as I know SHIELD haven’t been able to get in touch with him since he took Loki back. I have managed to contact Dr Foster though and she thinks she can help. She’ll contact us as soon as she has anything. And she says to say she’s glad you’re alive, sir.’ 

‘Fine, let me know when she gets in touch. We need Thor’s help here.’ Phil nods at both of them and leaves to go and find Stark.

When you want to find Tony Stark and he’s working all you need to do is follow your ears. Deep Purple’s Speed King is blaring loud enough that Phil can feel it in his chest as Jarvis opens the door for him. 

‘Stark, how’s it coming along?’ he yells as he watches the other man deftly manipulating a tiny probe inside whatever it is he’s constructed.

‘Nearly done, boss man. Nearly there...I just need to...’ Tony trails off as he concentrates and flexes his fingers minutely, ‘Yep, that’s got it. Oh yeah, I’m good.’ He steps back, dropping the tool on the workbench and stretches his arms high above his head, flexing cramped muscles.

‘Man, working on something that small will give you cramp in the fingers. And that is not good. Not good at all.’ He wiggles his fingers, cracking the joints with an ugly popping sound that makes Phil wince, and then plucks the tiny device from the clamp on the bench and hands it to Phil.

It’s so small that if it wasn’t Stark’s Phil would have his doubts about whether it would work or not. As he twists it in his fingers to examine it, Stark comes up behind him and rests his chin on Phil’s shoulder to peer at it with him. 

‘Not my best work I must admit, a bit untidy but hey, you know, you rush a guy you get a shoddy product.’ Stark’s voice in his ear is gravelly with fatigue and Phil remembers that he probably hasn’t had any sleep yet tonight. The device looks anything but shoddy, it’s tiny and sleek, longer than a normal bird ring would be, it looks as though it will cover most of the hawk’s lower leg, but its incredibly light.

Stark has his eyes closed and his head tilts to lean against Phil’s, ‘It’s GPS and VHF so even if we lose one we’ll keep the other. It uses an Iridium transceiver with a satellite based data transmission system which means Jarvis can monitor it constantly and it should be accurate to under two metres. There’s a mortality sensor and a temperature sensor but that’s about all I could fit on it with the tight timescale...’ he wraps his arms around Phil’s waist and leans more of his weight onto him as he trails off.

‘Don’t fall asleep on me, Stark, not yet. How do I fit it to the hawk?’

‘Just clip it round its leg, once its on it won’t come off until I give Jarvis the release code,’ he yawns enormously right in Phil’s ear. ‘Anyone ever tell you you’re very comfy? I could just doze off right here.’

‘No, they haven’t and you’re about to get a rude awakening when I move to go and put this on the bird. Fury wants us to transfer it to SHIELD and I’d like you and Bruce to come along so that you can run your eye over the anomalous data that Bruce and Jarvis have picked up, see what you can make of it.’

‘No rest for the wicked, huh? I must have been really bad in another life or something. Ok, I just need to take a shower and maybe get an IV drip of caffeine or something and I’ll be right there with you.’ He doesn’t move until Phil steps away from under him and then he just sighs at him and looks at him with those ridiculous puppy dog eyes. 

Phil shakes his head at him, ‘That won’t work on me Stark. I am not your pillow,’ he lets his tone of voice soften though as he continues, ‘but thank you for doing this so quickly.’ Ignoring the pleased expression on Tony’s face he turns to leave and calls over his shoulder, ‘When we get Barton back I will be your personal pillow for as long as you want if this works.’ A small smile creeps onto his face as he hears Tony whoop behind him, ‘I’m holding you to that Coulson.’

Phil takes the shortest route back to Barton’s rooms and smiles as he pauses in the door. The hawk has decided it’s hungry and is standing next to the dish of meat on the floor. Steve looks a lot more relaxed even as he shudders as he watches the hawk select a new chunk of meat. It grabs the chunk out of the dish with its beaks and then drops it onto the floor where it pins the meat with the talons of one foot and tears smaller lumps off it with its beak, swallowing them down greedily. It pauses when it sees Phil in the door and lets out a soft call. It leaves the meat and runs across the floor towards him. Phil can’t help the surprised chuckle that escapes him as it waddles quickly towards his feet and Steve laughs with him, ‘I know. Who knew that hawks look ridiculous when they run on the ground?’ Clearly offended the hawk snaps at Phil’s trousers and yanks.

‘Hey, hey, no need for that,’ he bends and runs a hand down its back. ‘Got something for you here,’ he says softly showing the tracker ring to the hawk who cocks its head from side to side at it and then begins to preen its feathers. Phil snorts and looks up at Steve who shrugs his shoulders, ‘Guess it can’t hurt to just try putting it on while it seems calm.’

Phil runs his hand down the hawk’s leg a couple of times and then closes the ring around its right leg. The ring seals shut and refuses to come off again when Phil tugs at it. The hawk bends round to nibble gently at the ring but it still doesn’t come off and Phil is satisfied that it will live up to Tony’s promises. He hears Steve let out a relieved sigh above him, ‘That went better than I expected, I thought we’d both end up with a least a few scratches.’ Phil hums in agreement, more certain than ever that this is no ordinary hawk.

‘We’ve to take it along to SHIELD now that we have the tracker fitted so that they can run tests and scans on it, see if they can get any more information that way. If you can just stay here with the hawk for a few more minutes I’ll round up the others and we can go.’

‘Ok,’ Steve sounds a little doubtful, ‘How are we going to transport it? Have we got some sort of box or cage or something for it?’

‘No, I think we’ve done pretty well so far and I don’t know about you but I don’t fancy my chances trying to squash it into a box. We’ll try just carrying it into the car and see how that goes. If we can’t manage that way we’ll think of something else.’

Steve still looks sceptical but he tosses the leather harness thing he was carrying earlier at Phil. ‘It seems to like you best, perhaps it’ll sit on your shoulder again?’

Phil snatches the harness out of the air and tries not to wince as his chest twinges. Steve’s face falls and he starts to get up and apologise but Phil motions him to stay put, ‘Its fine, I’m ok, I just forget to be careful sometimes.’

‘As do I apparently,’ a frown creases Steve’s face and Phil knows that he won’t let it happen again. He feels a little surge of warmth that Captain America is looking out for him and tries to hide it by looking down at the leather contraption in his hand. He grins, it’s a modified shoulder holster for an automatic with additional padding clumsily attached across the right shoulder.

‘Thanks, Captain, this should make a big difference,’ he slides the harness on, not needing to adjust the straps as much as he thought to get it on over his jacket rather than under it. It’s just another reminder that Cap really is that much bigger than everyone else. Steve flushes and waves his thanks away as Phil turns to leave again. 

Phil heads back towards his own rooms to pick up a supply of his meds, just in case they don’t get back tonight. ‘Jarvis. Can you ask everybody to be ready to leave in ten minutes please? We’ll meet at Barton’s rooms and take it from there.’

‘Certainly sir,’ the AI replies, ‘I shall relay your message immediately.’

Phil’s only just stowed the vast range of tablets away when suddenly a deafening alarm starts blaring through the tower and Jarvis’ voice rings out, ‘Breach in the tower. Hawkeye’s rooms are under attack,’ and then Phil is running, retracing his path as fast as he currently can to get back to Steve and the hawk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting this, but sometimes real life can be unpredictable... anyway hope this slightly longer chapter makes up for it. Enjoy.
> 
> The rating has changed slightly, mainly to take into account the strong language and potential romantic interactions in later chapters.

Phil arrives at Barton’s suite just after Stark; Natasha and Bruce are there seconds later. Stark has already triggered the Iron Man suit and he smashes through the outer door. Inside, the room is chaos, feathers are everywhere in the air making it difficult to see and all over the furniture and floor. The furniture is shredded, wind gusts through the shattered windows whipping up the feathers and glass crunches underfoot as they rush in. Steve is crouched behind his shield and peers out around it as Tony barges in.

‘They’ve taken it! They’ve taken the hawk. I couldn’t stop them, I’m sorry, there were just too many of them and I think it was trying to protect me but now it’s gone.’ Steve looks frantic as Tony pulls him to his feet, there’s blood covering the right side of his face and his shield is scratched to hell. He strides to the shattered windows and points out at what at first glance appears to be a dark cloud. ‘That’s them. The hawk must be with them.’

Phil peers out and realises that what appeared to be a solid mass at first is made up of individuals. Birds. Birds of all shapes and sizes, flying fast away from them. Stark is about to launch himself out of the window after them but Phil catches his arm. ‘Is the tracking device working?’

‘Jarvis?’ Tony calls out. 

‘Yes, Sir, the device is working. The hawk is amongst them and they appear to be heading west at present.’

‘Natasha, contact SHIELD immediately and tell them what’s happened. Tell them to get the Quinjet ready for immediate take off when we arrive.’ Phil is thinking on his feet, there’s no time to waste, the hawk was their only link to Clint and now its gone. ‘Jarvis are the security feeds back up and running on these rooms? I want to see exactly what happened.’

‘Yes, Agent Coulson.’ 

The screen on which they’d been viewing the tower security footage earlier flashes to life showing the inside of Barton’s rooms. They see Phil clipping the tracking ring onto the hawk’s leg and talking to Steve, catching the shoulder harness and leaving. Jarvis skips rapidly through several minutes of Steve sitting watching the hawk and from all appearances chatting to it amiably before slowing the footage to real time again. As they watch, Steve looks up puzzled as the ambient light in the room seems to dim. He stands from the armchair and looks towards the glazed wall as it quickly becomes overcast.

‘Wow, those clouds are really closing in fast. Looks like we meet be in for some nasty weather yet today,’ he’s talking to the hawk again and turns to look across at it where it’s perched on the back of the couch again. The hawk cocks its head at the windows, ruffling its feathers and then there’s a sudden loud thudding noise as the windows shudder under impact from the outside. The security cameras focus in on the window and show an impossible mass of birds swooping down to attack the reinforced bulletproof security grade glass walls with beaks and talons. There must be hundreds if not thousands of them launching themselves at it, attacking with talons and beaks, swooping in to batter themselves against it and then diving away in wave upon wave of frenzied avian aggression. The cameras pan back to show Steve’s appalled face, he’s clearly shouting but can’t be heard above the booming from the windows and the shrieking of the birds. The tower alarm goes off as Jarvis reacts as well, adding to the chaos of noise and Steve drags up the cowl of his suit and snatches up his shield as a spiderweb of cracks appear in the glass. 

With a final almighty crash the windows shatter under a concerted attack by the birds and the room is suddenly full of them, wheeling and shrieking. Steve’s face is grim as he raises his shield to try to fend them off. He lowers it to look for the hawk and nearly loses an eye to a talon ripping down his face. With a pained cry he raises the shield again just as the Harris hawk swoops down on his attacker, its own talons extended, beak agape screaming a challenge. 

Phil tries to keep his eye on the Harris hawk, their hawk, on the screen but the chaos in the room with so many birds inside is incredible. The larger birds seem to be focussing their attacks on Steve, keeping him pinned beneath his shield, talons raking and beaks ripping at him, forcing him back and down into the crouch the team had found him in. The smaller birds seem intent on creating as much disorder and distraction as they can, swooping and screaming, feathers raining down as they collide with each other, bouncing off walls and panicking in the frenzied mayhem.

A single loud cry rings out above the noise and birds begin to change direction abruptly, sweeping back out of the windows now instead of at Steve. As rapidly as they had arrived the birds are gone leaving the swirling vortex of feathers the rest of the team encountered on entering. The entire attack was over and done in the space of just a few minutes, leaving Steve battered, the hawk gone and the team stunned.

Stark lifts his visor and turns to Steve, ‘Christ, Cap, your face. You ok?’

Steve runs a hand over his face, it comes away bloody but now its clear that although there are two deep gouges running from just below his eye down the right side of his face, there’s no damage to the eye itself.

‘I’ll be fine, it’ll heal in no time. We don’t need to waste any time on my account,’ 

Tony turns to look at the rest of them, ‘Does anybody else feel like we’ve just stepped into a scene from The Birds?’ he sneezes as down from the feathers swirls inside his mask.

Phil considers this a little more seriously than Stark might have anticipated, he arches an eyebrow at Natasha and Bruce, ‘Do we know any bird cults or gods, goddesses or supervillains who have an affinity with birds?

Natasha shakes her head and Bruce scrubs a hand through his hair in frustration, ‘Can’t think of any off the top of my head.’

‘Ok, we can do this on the move and so can the SHIELD researchers. Let’s get over to SHIELD right now. We need to get after that mob of birds, we can only assume that they’re taking the hawk to whoever’s behind this and we need to tail them immediately.’ Phil starts for the door and trusts that the rest of them will follow, so he misses the concerned glances passing between the others.

‘Coulson, wait.’ It’s Stark, of course, never able to refrain from asking a question if it’s there to be asked. ‘Should you be going with us? I mean, I’m pretty certain if we turn up at SHIELD with you in the ranks, Fury’s gonna find new and interesting ways to make our lives miserable.’

Phil doesn’t even bother to turn around, just keeps moving as the rest of them scramble to catch up. ‘Plausible deniability. That’s why Natasha has been doing all the liaison with SHIELD so far. As I’m not cleared for active duty I can’t be involved in this mission to find Barton, so I’m just tagging along with the rest of you so that you can keep an eye on my health, sticking close to the doctor in my current weakened condition.’ He doesn’t need to look at Bruce to see the smile and the slight shake of his head. ‘Besides, it would just be foolish to leave me here, unguarded, in my state, in a tower that’s been so easily infiltrated. Twice in the space of 24 hours as far as we can tell. Fury would definitely have your heads for that.’

Behind him he can hear Tony making strangled sounds, ‘Easily infiltrated? Easily fucking infiltrated? This tower is the most secure, well defended building in the fucking country, never mind this city.’ He’s building up to a classic Stark tirade. ‘Its more secure than the Pentagon, the White House and Fort Knox put together. I designed every security system here myself.’ He catches up to Phil, ‘Jesus, Coulson, do you really think I’d risk having all the Avengers here under one roof if I thought it wasn’t safe? That I’d risk the safety of Captain America? That I’d risk your safety after we’ve only just gotten you back?’ 

Phil pauses and turns, giving in to the temptation for once in his life to roll his eyes at Stark, ‘No, I know you wouldn’t. I also know how secure this place is or I’d never allow the team to stay here and neither would Fury. Its not your fault that the glass wasn’t up to kamikaze bird attacks, no one could have predicted that. But those are the reasons we’re going to use for why I’m accompanying you to SHIELD so we don’t get slowed down.’

Stark falters, his mouth parted about to continue his rant and deflates slightly, ‘Right, of course. And the reason you’ll be giving him for being allowed to continue with us on the Quinjet?’

‘Working on that right now. I’ll think of something by the time we get there.’ 

Phil isn’t expecting Natasha to be the next voice of dubious reason. She waits until they’re out of the elevators and just getting into the cars before she speaks.

‘Sir, you’re _not_ cleared for active duty yet,’ and Phil can hear the real concern in her voice. She’s worried about him, he can hear the genuine fear underlying those few carefully chosen words and he won’t belittle that by brushing it aside.

‘Tasha, I’m coming with you. Staying here, trying to wait this out, the stress of that would be a far greater strain to my health and recovery than sitting on the Quinjet will be.’ Phil rests a hand on her shoulder gently, ‘I’ll try not to do anything too strenuous but I can still provide tactical advice, just like I usually do, without even leaving the jet if that’s what it takes. But I can’t just sit here not knowing what’s happening.’

Natasha bites her lip and drops her eyes to the ground, giving Phil an uncomfortable moment. There’s a strangely lost look in her eyes when she looks back up at him and then she takes him by surprise stepping in to wrap her arms around him tightly. ‘I won’t deny that I’ll feel better knowing you’re with us, but I can’t bear to lose you again and it would just about kill Clint, so you’d better be damn careful, sir. Damn careful.’

Phil runs a hand gently down her back as she disentangles herself and slides into the car as if she’d never spoken. He puffs out a deep breath; if Black Widow’s on his side it’ll be that much easier to swing this past Fury.

They’re nearly at SHIELD when Natasha’s phone goes off and when she answers it to ‘Dr Foster,’ Phil’s relief is enormous. They may yet still need Thor’s Allspeak talents to get answers to this situation and Phil wants all the help he can get.

Natasha is humming thoughtfully into the phone as she listens, quirking an eyebrow at Phil she says, ‘I think you’d better explain this to him yourself,’ as she hands the phone to him.

‘Dr Foster?’ Phil isn’t concerned yet, Natasha doesn’t seem alarmed so it can’t be anything too bad.

‘Agent Coulson, I’ve been able to contact Thor, thanks to Heimdall but I’m afraid he won’t be able to join you just now.’ Phil feels his heart sink until she continues, ‘Thor is very upset about what’s happened to Agent Barton and he wants to help but he can’t leave Asgard yet,’ there’s a note of frustration in the young scientist’s voice that Phil can appreciate. It must be hard when your boyfriend literally comes from another planet. ‘He has been able to persuade his father to help you though, so Odin has agreed to grant Allspeak to you and only to you until you can get Agent Barton back.’

Phil knows his own eyebrows are probably trying to climb into his hairline just at the moment; Natasha is smirking at him from across the car.

‘To me? Why to me?’

‘I’m not sure, Thor didn’t really have chance to elaborate but he did say that he would be able to meet you for a short time to transfer it to you. He’ll meet you at the New Mexico site as soon as you can get there.’

‘New Mexico?’

‘Yeah, apparently without the Bifrost it’s easier for Odin and Heimdall to send him through where a link has already been made, so New Mexico it is. Will that be a problem for you?’

‘No. We’ll make it work. Thank you for your assistance Dr Foster, we appreciate it more than you can know.’

There’s a warmth in Jane Foster’s voice as she replies, ‘Thor is very fond of all of you, I’m sure he’ll do whatever he can to help. And I remember Hawkeye from New Mexico too. Kind of quiet, with a bad habit of lurking in unexpected places, but he helped Darcy get some of our stuff back. I hope you find him soon Agent Coulson. Look after yourself.’

‘Thank you, Dr Foster. Goodbye.’ Phil hangs up, handing the phone back to Natasha and turns to Stark up front. ‘Does Jarvis have any clues as to where the hawk is being taken yet?’

Seconds later Stark calls back, ‘At the moment they appear to be heading south and west, perhaps towards Florida. Jarvis is postulating that as the hawk is native to South America they might be heading that way. He’s tried to analyse some of the footage of the other birds but he can’t find any specific patterns that would indicate any particular country of origin.’

‘Thanks, Stark.’ Phil taps his fingers on his knee thoughtfully, ‘In that case it shouldn’t be too much of a detour to meet Thor in New Mexico,’ he murmurs.

‘We’re doing what now? And why?’ Stark yells back just as they arrive and any answer Phil might have been going to make is swept away in the sudden burst of activity their arrival generates.

~

‘Give me one good reason, Coulson. One good reason why I should even consider letting you get on that jet?’ Fury is none too happy, his one eye shifting its stony glare from one Avenger to the next before settling back on Phil.

‘Because Odin has apparently specified that I should be the one to receive the gift of Allspeak as Thor can’t join us himself.’ Phil could probably add more, could go through all the arguments he’d been rehearsing on the way over here but he doesn’t need to now. Thor has given him the perfect reason to be included in the team and Fury might bluster but he’s going to give in and sooner rather than later given that they’re only waiting for the Quinjet to finish being fuelled up.

‘Why you?’

‘Probably feeling guilty about the way his wayward adopted son stuck a huge glowing spear through his heart and mindfucked our missing buddy,’ Stark interrupts before Phil can respond, ‘Trying to make up for his rotten parenting skills by helping us out now.’

Phil shrugs at Fury, ignoring Tony though he may have a point, and doesn’t smile as Fury sighs and makes a shooing motion with his hand, ‘Alright, get out there but I expect you all back in one piece. And that includes Barton.’

The team don’t waste any time, their equipment is already loaded so they just need to get aboard. Fury rests a hand on Phil’s arm as he turns to follow, ‘Hurry, Phil. We can spare them for now but if we get any active threats I’ll have to call the Avengers back in.’

‘Understood, sir,’ Phil nods and Fury gives him a wicked grin in response, ‘Go get our boy, Agent.’

Once they’re in flight with Stark at the controls and Natasha in the copilot’s seat, Phil tosses the datastick Fury had passed him to Bruce and sits back to see what SHIELD have come up with.

‘Hmmm,’ Bruce sighs as he taps at the tablet on his knees, ‘I’m not sure there’s anything here that looks all that promising. It’s information on bird cults and deities; Director Fury didn’t waste any time, he contacted Doctor Strange immediately but even he doesn’t think any of these candidates seem likely. It looks like we may still be dealing with an unknown entity here.’ He looks worried and frustrated, his hands running through his hair again and again and Phil marvels again at how quickly these massively disparate individuals have bonded together.

‘May I take a look?’ Phil holds out a hand for the tablet but Bruce comes across to sit next to him so they can go through it together. It’s going to be at least another couple of hours until they can rendezvous with Thor at New Mexico and Phil can only hope that by then they’ll have some idea of where the hawk has been taken. At least looking at the data will distract him from endless worrying over Clint’s safety.

They scroll through the data and Phil has to admit that it looks like Bruce might be right, none of the information they’re seeing appears to match up to what they’ve seen so far. The Tlingit people of Alaska’s chief deity is a Raven, but there’s no obvious connection there. The people of North Borneo claim the hawk is the messenger of their supreme god and have been known to use hawks in rituals to make decisions about certain events. Hawks are also worshipped on some of the Hawaiian and Fijian islands but again there’s no real link. Horus the hawk god of Egypt catches their attention for a while, given the abundance of other bird associations in the Egyptian religion but again no one can think of any reason why they should be linked to Barton.

Phil’s eye is caught by the section on the worship of the Frigate Bird on Easter Island and the Tangata manu cult of the ‘bird man’. For some reason that strikes a note with Phil, that perhaps some disturbed cultist has identified Hawkeye as the embodiment of their god and snatched him away after seeing him in the Avengers. He discusses it halfheartedly with Bruce and Steve but they all agree that there’s little enough in it to make it a viable theory.

By the time they’ve covered all the information down to the animist religion of the Ainu in Japan and Russia and the presence of roosters in Assyrian, Babylonian, Phoenician and Persian religions, Phil feels like they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel without having come across any good leads but they’re also landing at the New Mexico rendezvous site.

Phil lets the Avengers leave the Quinjet first and only follows them out when he gets the all clear from Natasha, trying not to chafe at such overprotectiveness even while he’s warmed by their obvious concern.

Thor is clearly delighted to see them all again, greeting them all with bear hugs and loud cries of welcome. When he sees Phil his face is a picture as it tries to simultaneously express joy that he’s alive, guilt that it was his brother who so nearly killed him and sorrow that Barton is missing.

‘Son of Coul, I am mightily glad to see you so hale, for I had believed like the others that it was a mortal wound you took from my brother.’ The very gentle way that Thor grasps Phil’s right shoulder, shows more than any words could just how concerned the giant blonde is.

‘Thank you, Thor,’ Phil gives him a smile and pats his arm. ‘We’re very grateful that you could come to help us.’

Thor frowns and looks utterly torn, ‘I would dearly like to stay here and help you search for Clint Barton. He has proven himself our brother and a worthy member of our fine band of warriors but I cannot leave Asgard for too long at this time.’

His hand drops away from Phil’s shoulder as he continues, ‘My home is in turmoil, Loki’s betrayal of my father and our people is still fresh in their minds; when I returned with him and the Tesseract they did not take kindly to his presence back on Asgard.’

Phil wonders how much of an understatement that is but refrains from interrupting. Amazingly so does Stark, but that may have more to do with the way Natasha and Steve are bracketing him.

‘I am afraid that if I do not return soon to speak for my brother, things will go very amiss for him.’

This time Phil can distinctly hear the muffled grunt as Stark is effectively silenced by the others.

‘We understand Thor, Loki is still your brother and you love him,’ Phil responds, and really it might as well be him speaking up given that Barton isn’t here and they’ve been the two most affected by Loki’s malevolent antics recently. 

At his words Thor brightens slightly but still looks miserably unhappy, his open face shows every emotion, so different from the people Phil normally works with. He makes a mental note never to let Stark and Barton introduce Thor to poker.

‘One thing I can assure you of, this foul abduction of Hawkeye is not of Loki’s doing, he is entirely and harshly secured. My father and Heimdall also affirm that my brother has had no opportunity to undertake such mischief and that this appears to be an entirely earthly matter.’

Steve steps forward and clasps Thor’s shoulder, ‘It’s good to know that Loki isn’t involved but we need to follow our only lead as soon as we can.’

Thor looks abashed at having to be reminded of the reason he’s here. ‘Of course, the Allspeak.’ He produces a small flask from a pouch on his belt and hands it very solemnly to Phil.

‘Drink this, Son of Coul, and you will find yourself able to understand any and all you would converse with and they will understand you.’

Phil eyes the liquid sloshing in the flask suspiciously, you don’t work for SHIELD for any length of time without being nervous of being asked to drink strange fluids. On the other hand, it might help Clint. Before the others can stop him, he tilts the flask back and empties it down his throat.

Nothing happens.

He feels strangely underwhelmed and turns to shrug at the others. ‘Are you crazy?’ Natasha grabs his arm, ‘That could have been toxic to humans for all we know. You should have let Bruce look at it first.’

‘We don’t have time for that just now, you know that. We need to do this and get back on the move like Captain Rogers said.’ Natasha blinks mildly in surprise, ‘Your accent has certainly improved a lot,’ and he realises she’d yelled at him, and he’d responded presumably, in Russian.

Stark crows, ‘Hell, it works. I don’t suppose there’s any more where that came from, Thor, my friend?’

‘No, friend Stark, I fear not. Odin agreed only that Son of Coul should have this gift and it will last only as long as is necessary to retrieve Hawkeye from the clutches of his assailants.’ Thor turns back to Phil who nods his understanding.

‘Please thank your father for us, Thor. We appreciate that this is a great gift we’ve been given.’ 

Stark still isn’t satisfied, but then when is he ever? ‘How come Coulson gets the presents eh? Why not give it to all of us, that would be even more helpful.’

Thor grins at him, ‘I have told my father of the Son of Coul’s many acts of bravery, his willingness to sacrifice himself for the sake of others, his untroubled nature in the midst of chaos, his...’

‘Yeah, ok, I get the picture. Coulson’s a good guy so he gets the magic Doctor Doolittle drink.’ Thor looks utterly confused by Stark but before he can start to question it and they get dragged into another mess of cultural references, Phil steps back up to Thor and quietly suggests that if he has time he may want to pay a social call to Jane. Thor is instantly and obviously distracted by an internal dilemma over whether taking the time to pay a visit to his girlfriend will cause chaos back at home. 

Phil signals to Steve and together they start herding the others back towards the Quinjet, Bruce is peering curiously into the flask that Phil had drunk from and he keeps hold of it as he boards the jet. No doubt there will be some complicated analysis of the remnants as soon as he gets the chance. Thanking Thor again Phil hurries after them, keen to be back in the air and chasing down their hawk.

Thor keeps pace with the jet for a moment or two before peeling away with a wave. Stark already has Jarvis feeding the last known coordinates from the hawk’s tracker into the Quinjet and it soon becomes apparent that they’re heading for South America. In fact, as they begin to creep closer to the GPS readings they realise they’re heading into the Amazon rainforest.

‘Crap,’ Stark is predictably blunt at this development, ‘I hate rainforests, the humidity’s murder in the suit.’

Bruce responds first, ‘Well, with any luck we won’t be there for long and at least you can fly out if you need to. The rest of us’ll be slogging it out on foot.’

Natasha gives Phil a long hard look but there’s nothing to be done now. Phil has the Allspeak so he’ll have to go along. At least he’ll be able to communicate with whoever they come across. On the other hand he’s not going to deny that trekking through a rainforest was not on his recovery plan this week. Stark sets the Quinjet down in a logging clearing as close as they can get to the coordinates where the GPS unit has finally stopped. It’s still going to be a good few hours to hike there though and its already turning dark. They agree that as much as they all want to get started there’s no point in risking injury by travelling at night and so they’ll wait until morning.

Phil struggles to sleep despite his exhaustion, the Quinjet is not the most restful place to spend the night and between Stark’s insomniac mutterings and Bruce’s surprisingly loud snoring it’s not until Natasha settles down next to him, curling herself around his right side protectively that he manages to drop off.

~

After three hours of hard going it’s Steve who calls for a break, glancing worriedly at Phil as he does. Phil knows he must look terrible, he’s exhausted and aching all over, sweating and miserable in the humidity and more than willing to admit that he’s struggling and glad for the respite. He sinks to a fallen log and takes a long drag from the water bottle Natasha hands him. Bruce gives him a quick once over and pronounces him remarkably well all things considered, although he still looks worried. Stark reassures them all once again that at the first sign of any health problems he’ll suit up and have Phil out of there and to the nearest hospital but even he can’t stop throwing worried frowns Phil’s way.

‘How are we doing on those coordinates, Stark?’ Natasha asks quietly and they watch as Tony checks in with Jarvis.

‘Not much further, we should reach the hawk’s location in less than an hour, it’s just a couple of miles further on.’ 

Phil feels a surge of adrenaline as he realises they may at last be closing in on Clint’s captors. He still can’t think of anyone who would want to abduct an Avenger and then issue neither demands nor threats but according to their last contact with Hill there’s been no communication whatsoever. 

He takes a moment to focus on the noises all around him. When they’d first left the Quinjet this morning he’d thought he was going nuts as all the noise of the rainforest assaulted him. He’d quickly realised the Allspeak could be a curse as well as a gift out here and he’d had to focus on blocking it out quickly. Bruce had darted back onto the jet and brought out earplugs which also helped a lot until he got it under control. Now though he listened in to the calls and cries of the millions of insects, birds and animals all around them. Still nothing of any particular significance though. Phil was beginning to realise that the wildlife documentary makers weren’t too far wrong, most of the noise in the animal world related to mating, finding food or demarcating territory.

Sighing and shaking his head at the others he signals that he’s ready to continue, knowing that they’re waiting on him. He tries to think of how to approach the GPS tracker’s location in a tactical fashion, but as they have no idea what they’re going to be facing it’s pretty hard to come up with anything. They’ll just have to think on their feet.

Phil’s so busy concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other without stumbling over roots that he nearly walks straight into Steve’s back when he stops. Leaning around Steve’s broad back he sees Stark holding up his hand and slipping off the pack that contains the case with the Iron Man suit. 

Stark moves back quietly to the rest of them, ‘There’s a small clearing up ahead and the GPS beacon is coming from the far side of it. I can’t see a damn thing that looks out of place in there though. No camp, no weird cultists or terrorists, no people at all. Not a damn thing.’

Phil frowns, not sure what he’d been expecting but certainly not nothing. ‘Ok, people, suit up and get ready. We don’t know what we’re going to meet but I want us ready for anything.’

Steve pulls his cowl up and swings his shield down off his back, Natasha slides one gun into her hand and loosens another in its holster and Bruce simply looks on as Stark boots the Iron Man suit into action. As always they’re all hoping not to need the Hulk. Phil sends Stark, Natasha and Steve out to spread around the edges of the clearing and then with Bruce right behind him he pushes his way into the clearing.

Silence falls as they walk forward and that in itself is unnerving after they’ve gotten used to the constant background noise of the rainforest. Phil and Bruce stop a few steps into the clearing and Phil has his gun in his hand before he realises what he’s doing, the hairs on the back of his neck rising with the certainty that they’re being watched. Without any warning the clearing is suddenly filled with shrieking birds, descending from the canopy above in a hail of feathers. Phil raises his arms to protect his face and sees Bruce doing the same even as he hears the sound of Steve and Stark coming charging in to their rescue. Steve races to Phil and tries to cover him with his shield but the birds aren’t attacking. They’re shrieking and calling to each other, circling above them and swooping in and out of the trees, where one lands another takes off in a disconcerting disorientating mass.

Phil pushes Steve’s arm aside gently and they all risk looking around. In the centre of the clearing stands a tall and rather alarming looking bird, with long spindly legs, scruffy feathers, a long neck and a long straight beak. It’s a heron of some sort Phil realises, but before he can look any closer or try to pick out any sense from the mass of noise around him he sees a familiar shape dropping out of the trees above towards them and has to grab Tony’s arm to stop him firing at it instinctively.

The Harris hawk swoops round low behind them and then swings up to drop as gently as it can onto Phil’s right shoulder and everything else in the world drops away for an instant because all he can hear right then is the soft low cry of ‘Phil, Phil, Phil, Phil,’ over and over in his ear. His heartbeat nearly drowns it our for a moment because Phil would recognise Clint Barton’s voice anywhere.


	4. Chapter 4

‘Clint,’ Phil breathes softly as he reaches up to stroke a hand down the breast of the hawk on his shoulder. Barton bends his neck to nibble very gently at Phil’s fingers and then begins to run his beak through Phil’s hair. 

‘Clint, it’s ok, we’re here. All of us, it’s going to be fine.’ The sense of relief running through Phil at finally knowing that this is Clint makes him almost lightheaded.

‘Clint?’ Stark flips up the faceplate of the Iron Man suit, ‘So that feathered menace really is Barton then?’

‘Of course it’s me, dumbass,’ Clint tilts his head to glare sidelong at Tony as he makes a loud hissing noise at him through his open beak.

Phil chuckles, apparently being turned into a large bird of prey hasn’t done much to blunt the edge of Barton’s sharp tongue. Stark seems to get the message even without the benefit of Allspeak, he grins and makes the sort of gesture that normally leaves Steve red-faced and disapproving but Cap’s grinning too widely to leave room for embarrassment.

Bruce is smiling broadly but still eyeing the canopy above them nervously as the mass of birds continue wheeling and calling. There’s no sign of Natasha but Phil isn’t worried, she’s keeping an eye on their backs, doing a better job than the rest of them of keeping her head in the game.

‘Clint, what happened? Who’s responsible for this and where are they?’ Phil strokes down the feathers on Clint’s chest again, seemingly unable to stop touching him now that he can. ‘What do we need to do to get you changed back?’ They can waste time on pleasantries later, and they will, oh they will, but right now they need answers. Phil won’t be happy until he has Clint back next to him, with arms he can lean into instead of wings and no need of a gift from Asgard to communicate with him.

On his shoulder Clint’s weight shifts abruptly and his talons flex into the cannibalised shoulder holster Phil’s been wearing in hope since they left the tower, but before Clint can ‘speak’, a strident hoarse call cuts through the rest of the noise in the clearing drawing all eyes to the solitary bird still standing in the centre. Abruptly the birds aloft find perches to settle into and the disturbing quiet settles around them again. 

Clearly this bird has some authority here, head of the pecking order so to speak; it’s red eyes are fixed sharply on Phil and Clint and a sharp prickle of apprehension runs down Phil’s back. Movement to either side of him in his peripheral vision indicates that Stark and Steve are battle ready again and have moved to flank them. Phil can’t see Banner but he has no doubt that with this level of tension in the air he could Hulk out at any moment.

‘Please lower your weapons, you are in no danger here,’ the bird slants its head so that it can see all of them and opens its thick black blade like beak as it speaks. Phil’s ears hear the harsh _wok wok ___noise coming from its beak but the words form inside his head in a deep hoarse voice.

‘It’s very rude to invade our home brandishing weapons, wouldn’t you say?’ the bird tilts its head again and Phil feels distinctly as though they are being weighed, assessed, judged. The tension all around them is a heavy weight, feels almost like a physical touch and Phil has to work hard to convince himself that it’s not malevolent just alien. He has the feeling that a wrong move here could be bad for everyone.

‘We’ll be the judge of the danger we’re in, thank you, but I appreciate the sentiment,’ Phil lets his well-practiced impassive government agent face and voice come to the fore. 

‘It may be rude but it seems to me that we’re simply returning the favour after you broke into our home, attacked us and abducted Agent Barton here,’ he lets a small bland smile turn up the corners of his lips, aware that it isn’t reaching his eyes. The others, who are only hearing one side of the conversation don’t relax for a second, still poised for immediate action. The slightest of deliberate movements in the trees at the edge of the clearing behind the bird lets Phil know that Natasha has their adversary covered from that angle too.

‘I am the Night Heron,’ the bird says drawing itself up to its full height and ruffling its grey feathers. It stalks a few steps in a jerky fashion towards them on long bright yellow legs, ‘I am the lord of the feathered brethren of this land and no one has been abducted. I have simply returned your “Agent Barton” to his home, here, with his own people.’

Phil has never been more grateful for all the years of practice that allow him not to gape in shock at hearing that. From his shoulder there’s an alarmed squawk from Barton, ‘No way. No goddamn way. What the hell? I mean, what the fuck is he even talking about?’ 

Barton’s agitation infects the others, both Steve and Stark start talking at the same time, ‘What’s going on? Why’s Barton so upset?’ Even more alarming, behind them Phil can hear the low growl that signals Banner is struggling not to lose himself to the Hulk. If he doesn’t get control of this situation quickly the clearing is about to become a disaster zone.

Phil raises his voice and puts every ounce of authority he has into it as he says, ‘Listen up Avengers. There is currently no immediate threat to us or Agent Barton. Everybody can lower their weapons while I find out what’s going on here.’ He risks taking his eyes from the Night Heron to turn and catch the eyes of each of the men around him, lowering his voice and trying to reassure them. ‘This could take a while and I’ll translate for you as and when I can but for the moment I need to be able to negotiate with this individual. So I need you to stand down but stay alert.’

Stark looks dubious but when Rogers nods his agreement he shrugs his shoulders and slips his faceplate up. Bruce nods and closes his eyes briefly, clearly trying to will himself back in control. On his shoulder Clint is shifting nervously, making a low distressed clicking noise in his throat. He presses closer to Phil’s head until Phil stretches his hand up to rest against Clint’s side.

‘I have no idea what he’s talking about, sir. No idea.’

Phil flexes his hand against the feathers and his voice is soft, ‘Okay, Clint. We’re going to get this sorted out now. We’re here for you and we’re not going back without you.’ 

He turns back to the Night Heron who is watching them patiently, large head sunk back onto its body in a curiously relaxed looking pose.

‘My companions can’t understand you, I’m afraid, and they’re naturally wary of further harm coming to Barton or the rest of us. I’ll need to translate for them to make sure they don’t become agitated and do anything reckless.’ Phil lets that small cold smile slip onto his face again, ‘I’m afraid they have a tendency to recklessness. For now I’d like you to explain what you meant by that last statement. In fact, I’d like you to explain everything.’

The Night Heron blinks slowly at them, ‘I spoke the truth. You are in no danger from us here, I do not have the power now to transform your people into mine. We have no weapons bar the ones that nature gave us and I doubt that we could cause you serious harm.’

‘Tell that to Cap,’ Clint mutters quietly and Phil’s mouth twitches up at the side. 

‘I also spoke the truth when I told you that we have simply returned Clint to his home by bringing him here.’ The heron’s voice is harsh in Phil’s mind but there is no suggestion of ill intent, just a heavy weariness. ‘I did not cause him to change into his current form, he did that himself when he broke the curse that was laid upon him as a child. With his natural form returned to him we could not leave him where he was, it was clear that he was ready to return here so we found him and brought him home.’ 

Phil tries to make sense of what he’s hearing, ‘You’re telling me that Clint Barton is actually a Harris Hawk and that he’s been living under a curse as a human for most of his life.’

‘Yes,’ the heron nods its head at the same time as Clint says, ‘Bullshit,’ and nips Phil’s ear in his agitation.

‘Damn it, Barton,’ Phil tries to put his hand across to his stinging ear but a searing pain across his chest makes him gasp and stagger slightly.

‘Shit, Phil. Fuck, are you ok?’ Clint’s worried voice is loud in his ear and he feels him straighten up on his shoulder and direct his next words at the Night Heron.

‘He needs to sit down and rest, he’s still recovering from a fatal wound and he’s just trekked halfway across a damn rainforest to find me when he should be sitting at home with his feet up.’

The Night Heron tilts his head slightly and says, ‘You are all welcome to take your rest here. I fear this tale may take some time to tell so we might as well all be comfortable.’ He blinks slowly, ‘You may wish to invite your other companion to join us from the trees, I’m sure she can kill me just as easily from here if she so desires.’

Phil sighs into the comms, ‘Widow, you’ve been spotted. Come in at your own discretion,’ knowing that she’ll do as she thinks best for their safety. He turns to the others, ‘I’m going to sit down as it seems there’s quite a story behind this and I’d rather sit before I fall.’ He waits until they nod before he sinks slowly to the ground, shuffling to try to avoid roots in awkward places and Clint’s wings flail as he tries to keep his balance on his shoulder. Phil breathes a sigh of relief and takes a few seconds to catch his breath and calm his racing mind.

‘Perhaps you’d better start from the beginning. Tell me who you are, all of you,’ Phil sweeps his hand around in a gesture indicating that he’s including all the birds. ‘Tell me about Clint. All of it.’

‘We are the People,’ the Night Heron says simply and it takes Phil a moment to realise that there is probably a specific term or word for that but the Allspeak is cutting straight through it, translating to its meaning. 

‘We live here in the forest, it is our home. We have always been here and we will be here for all time. We live and ask only to be allowed to do so without interference. We do not often come together like this, we tend to isolation. Only in times of great strife or when judgement is required do we gather so.’ Phil isn’t sure he likes the sound of that but keeps his peace for now.

‘Our leaders, if such you can call them, are a group of elders, experienced birds who guide us with their wisdom. From this group a leader is chosen, the Lord or Lady of the People, and the mantle of power is passed to them. I was deemed worthy of this honour many many years ago and I have struggled to be worthy of my people since then.’ 

The Night Heron blinks rapidly at Phil, who is certain there’s another story in those few words. He takes the momentary pause to do a quick rough and ready translation for the rest of the Avengers. On his shoulder Clint’s underlying agitation shows only through the rhythmic clenching of his talons against the harness. Phil puts a hand to his back which is starting to ache and is startled when a firm pressure suddenly appears behind him, Tony stepping in close so that Phil can use his legs as a backrest.

‘Many years ago,’ the Night Heron continues, ‘there was a family of hawks in this forest. They were an old family, an ancient lineage, well-respected, well-loved. At the time which interests you the male of this family was recently mated, they were a youthful pair, full of life and joy and raising their two young, one a year or so older than the other, both male.

They were a devoted pair and all too devoted to their younglings. The eldest child, however, was bad from the start, always jealous and inclined to spite, but he was their first and he could be sweet too when the mood took him. So a blind eye was turned to many of his misdemeanours and, rarely called to account, he flourished. His younger brother was devoted to him, followed his lead without question and refused to complain when trouble inevitably found him as well as his brother.’

Phil feels a chill down his spine, he knows where this is going and he understands why Clint is silent on his shoulder, the younger man always shuts down hard when he’s distressed.

‘The eldest son often found himself in trouble, in danger, and he dragged his brother into it with him, often deliberately. On one bright day he persuaded his brother to follow him to a particularly dangerous spot at the edge of the forest, close to a village of your kind. His brother was trapped by the villagers who had put out poisoned bait. Fortunately he had not eaten enough to kill him but his cries were pitiful to hear and echoed into the forest where his ever-loving parents heard him. Of course, they acted as any parent would and went to his rescue. They took the villagers by surprise and were able to free the child but at a terrible cost. Both parents were slain, for the villagers used poison tipped arrows and they are skilled hunters.’ The heron breaks off for a moment to allow Phil to translate, his red eyes close as he waits and again Phil is struck by the sense of weariness emanating from the bird.

The Night Heron opens its eyes and continues but now its gaze is fixed firmly on Clint, ‘The youngest child was found near death and brought sick and weak to this place where a gathering was called. The eldest boy was searched out for he had fled at the first hint of danger. He too was brought to this place where he confessed that he had known of the poison in the village. He told of his jealousy of his brother, this child who so adored him, and his plan to be rid of him. Although he had not anticipated the deaths of his parents he showed no remorse for their loss.’ The bird stops and ruffles his feathers furiously before continuing.

‘The elders were appalled by such callous cruelty, such lack of conscience. A decision was taken that the boy could not be allowed to stay in the forest, he must be exiled, outcast from the People. A terrible judgement and not one undertaken lightly but taken it was. The Lord of the People was called upon to use the mantle to complete the judgement but at the last moment the younger child roused himself to beg for mercy for his brother. So loyal and devoted was he, that he could not bear to lose his brother despite what had happened. The elders were implacable, the oldest child had very nearly destroyed his entire family and he had to be punished. The youngest child was offered a choice - stay here with the People or go forth with his brother. The young fool chose to join his brother and would not be dissuaded, would not be parted from him. The awful curse that day was therefore laid upon both children, one wholly deserving, the other entirely innocent.’

‘And the curse turned them into human children,’ Phil shakes his head softly, ‘Barney and Clint Barton.’

The Night Heron nods, ‘The curse was enacted so that it would last until those it was laid upon learned to feel true remorse for their actions. However, it seems that as the curse was laid so upon the guilty child, the other had no such lack of remorse for it to work upon, instead it twisted, warped and lasted until he learned to forgive himself and accept that he was worthy of love and respect.’ 

The large bird pauses to tilt his head at Clint, ‘Apparently you have succeeded in this, for the curse has been broken. You are returned to your true form and we have returned you to your true home. You are safe here, returned to the heart of the People, the last of your line.’

Barton stretches his head back and lets loose a terrible mournful shrieking cry to the sky. It’s a wordless call of anguish and frustration. Phil puts his hand up to curve around Clint’s back and side, to remind him that he isn’t alone. 

‘I don’t remember any of this, sir. None of it. I don’t remember this place or these birds. I don’t remember any of it, apparently not even my real parents who loved me enough to die trying to protect me. God knows, I don’t remember anything from my really early childhood but I’d always assumed that was just because my mind was blocking out how bad it must have been with what I _thought ___were my human parents.’ He’s shaking against the side of Phil’s head, trying to press closer, his voice hollow with confusion and despair. Phil reaches up with both hands to pull him down and into his lap where he can cradle him in his arms.

The Night Heron shakes its head at them, ‘You were barely more than a fledgling when these events occurred and the transformation would work quickly as you became human and needed to learn new behaviours. It will work quickly the other way too.’

Phil looks up sharply, ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that now he is returned to the People he will quickly begin to forget his human nature and his true nature will return. He will remember the joys of this life and forget the pains of his old one.’

Clint lets out an alarmed squawk, ‘No! Phil. I don’t want to forget. I don’t want this. I want to go back with you guys. As a human, as me, Clint Barton, marksman extraordinaire.’ He tries to nuzzle into Phil’s chest and Phil tightens his arms around him again. 

‘You are coming home with us, Clint, and no one will stop us,’ he fixes a hard stare on the heron in front of them. ‘We’ll fix this, we’ll find a way.’

His face buried against Phil, Clint’s voice is muffled, ‘I don’t even remember much of how I got here. I remember trying to help Cap at the tower when they came through the windows but then everything is kind of confused until we got here. I thought I’d never see any of you again. I thought...’ he trails off sadly.

‘We will always come for you, Clint. _I_ will always come for you. You need never be alone again. I couldn’t have stopped them coming even if I’d wanted to. You’re an Avenger now, Barton, part of the family.’ Phil’s heart aches at the thought that Clint hadn’t been sure they would come to bring him home. He bends to press his lips to the top of the feathered head.

‘What the hell is going on, Coulson? Why are you trying to make out with Barton while he still has a beak? Shouldn’t you be waiting til he gets changed back?’ Stark’s voice from above them reminds Phil that the rest of the team don’t yet know the full story. He tells them as quickly and concisely as he can, not leaving out that Barton thought they would leave him here. Natasha’s face when she hears this leaves them all under no illusions as to what she thinks of that.

‘So what’s the plan, Agent?’ Steve, as always, cuts right to the heart of the matter, ‘How do we get our man back, um, as a man?’

Phil’s voice is ice and iron as his hands are soft and gentle on Clint’s feathers, ‘That, Captain, is exactly what the Night Heron is about to tell us.’


	5. Chapter 5

The Night Heron eyes Phil steadily, ‘Now why would I wish to do that?’

Phil takes a deep breath and maintains his bland expression, ‘You’ve just heard Agent Barton say that he wants to return to his human form. He belongs with us now, this is the life he has made for himself, the one he’s chosen.’

The tall bird makes a rather undignified whistling sound down its beak, which Phil reckons would probably have been a snort of derision in any other animal.

‘After what I’ve just told you about Barton’s past you’ll forgive me if I don’t precisely consider that to be the best reason to undertake such a huge task.’

‘Hey!’ Clint sounds deeply unimpressed by that and he turns his head from Phil’s chest to glare at the Night Heron. ‘I’m fully capable of making my own decisions. I’m an adult now, not a frightened child.’

Phil lets his hands maintain their steady soothing glide over Clint’s feathers and tries to fight down the urge to tell the Avengers to destroy everything in sight, to raze this forest to the ground if necessary, until this creature agrees to give them back their archer. He knows that later he’ll be appalled by the realisation of exactly what he would be willing to do, how far he’d be willing to go to get Clint back in one piece, but for now he needs to stay calm and focused.

The Night Heron’s voice rasps in his head again, ‘He has a history of very bad judgement when it comes to people he cares about. Again and again throughout his life he has made bad decisions about who to trust and has done everything in his power to stay with those people even when they’ve shown themselves untrustworthy and dangerous to him. We have seen him choose to follow his brother into one terrible situation after another even after he tried to kill him, had this curse brought upon him and then betrayed him again. We have seen him choose to place his trust in the Swordsman and Trick Shot; he blinds himself to the faults of those he loves and then blames himself when they betray him. His judgement is clearly impaired, so why should we believe that his desire to return with you is any less a mistake?’

‘You said yourself that Barton has broken the curse that was laid upon him by finally coming to terms with the fact that he is worthy of love and respect,’ Phil speaks slowly and carefully knowing that rash words now will be a mistake there may be no coming back from. ‘He made that step with us, with these people who have come here to find him and bring him home because they care about him. Not about what he can do for them but about him. They will turn the world upside down to find him, just as he would for them. If he chooses to stay with us, with people who care for him, instead of returning to this life he knows nothing of, these People he knows nothing of, I think that’s a choice he should be allowed to make for himself.’ 

Phil stiffens slightly as Stark shifts behind him and he hears the others moving too. The team move to stand behind him and Clint, clearly signifying without words that they’re all in this together, that they stand behind Phil’s words as well as literally having his back.

The heron ruffles its feathers again but before it has a chance to speak again Clint cuts in, ‘You’re telling us that you’ve been watching us all this time? Me and Barney? But that you’ve never done anything, never lifted a hand to help us even when we were desperate? You’re telling me that the family that I had here is dead and gone but that now when you think that I’ve finally redeemed myself in the eyes of this stupid curse I should come back here and be happy about it? Well, fuck that, thank you very much. I may have made some shitty decisions in the past but I’m not sure yours have been any better.’ He wriggles in Phil’s arms and turns back to hide his head against Phil’s chest again, clearly overwhelmed once more.

‘The laying of that curse upon you has been a burden upon my soul from the moment it was completed,’ the Night Heron’s voice is quiet and filled with regret, ‘I could not reverse it, we could only watch from afar as you grew and your brother attempted to drag you down with him. He was never able to lift his curse because true remorse was a mystery to him. Even when he attempted to do the right thing it was only ever for his own gain not to make amends for his past.’

Clint doesn’t move though Phil knows he’s listening carefully as always. ‘When your curse was broken there was great rejoicing here. We had never imagined it would take so long to occur, nor that you would not be pleased to return to us.’ Clint snorts into Phil’s shirt derisively but still doesn’t respond. The Night Heron closes its eyes for a long moment and when it resumes its attention is focused back on Phil again.

‘You say that you have come here to retrieve him and take him back to your world where he now belongs. Well, we have watched your world and how it has treated him and we are not pleased with it. Your world has not been kind to Clint Barton, it has sought to break him, to clip his wings and his spirit. We will not subject him to such a life again when we can protect him here.’

Phil’s voice is all restrained fury when he can finally control himself to respond to that level of hypocrisy, ‘Our world may be harsh and Clint may have seen the worst of it in his youth but he’s also been witness to the best of it. He _is_ the best of it. He’s just proved that by helping to save that world, by being willing to risk his own life for the sake of people he’s never even met.’ 

Clint is frozen against Phil as he listens intently, ‘You say that he trusts too easily and that his judgement is impaired. Perhaps it was, perhaps...but I know Clint Barton and I can tell you that there are few finer judges of character or better tacticians. He trusts, really trusts, very few people. His early life forced harsh lessons on him and he’s learned them all too well. But he’s finally found people he _can_ trust, friends he can rely on and now you want to take him away from them.’ 

Phil has to fight hard to keep a sneer from his face, ‘You want to bring him back to your world and keep him here, where it’s safe. Safe? After what you’ve told us today I don’t think you’re in any position to cast aspersions. If our world hasn’t treated Clint well, yours has certainly been no better. You took a weak and injured child who had just learned of his parents death and asked him to make a decision he should never have had to make. You cast him out into a world he knew nothing of and left him to make his own way with no help. No, I don’t think you can claim that you’ve any moral right to make decisions regarding Barton’s welfare.’

The Night Heron regards Phil steadily, no sign that he is perturbed by Phil’s words, ‘You give a fine account of these others and their affection, their worthiness of Barton’s trust. What about Agent Coulson? Should he, should we place our trust in you?’

Phil’s soft smile is directed down at Clint in his lap and so are his words, ‘You don’t ever need to doubt that I will do whatever it takes to protect Clint Barton.’ There are more words but they get stuck in his throat when Clint raises his head to look at him directly. 

‘Phil...’ Clint seems as lost for words as he does and Phil rather wishes that they were having this conversation under other circumstances. They’ll just have to continue this later, when they’re both able to appreciate it properly.

The Night Heron hums deep in its throat, ‘Perhaps. But we will require proof of your dedication to Clint’s cause before we would be willing to return him to his unnatural form.’

Phil frowns as he drags his eyes away from Clint’s and back up to the heron, ‘What sort of proof?’

‘Nearly twenty years ago an object of great power was stolen from us. The mantle which both symbolises and enhances the power of the Lord of the People was taken and we have been unable to retrieve it without starting a war in our home. Find it and return it to us and we will agree that you are worthy of Barton’s return,’ the Night Heron stretches to its full height.

‘Do you know who took it and where it is now?’ Phil is suspicious that there is more to this than meets the eye.

‘It was taken from us by the river otter,’ there is a distinct sense of embarrassment colouring the tall bird’s words, ‘he is a trickster of the highest order, be wary of him.’

‘And if I agree and bring this mantle back to you, you will return Barton to his human form forever and allow him to return with us?’ Phil wants to be quite clear what the terms of this deal will be, doesn’t want to leave any wiggle room for the birds to try to back out later.

‘Return the mantle to us within the passing of a month from this day and we will return his human form to him for the rest of his life,’ the bird agrees, ‘but know this Agent Coulson, no bird of the air will aid you in this quest. None.’ It gives Clint a hard stare as it continues, ‘Barton may not assist you.’

‘A month? Why are you putting a time limit on this?’ Phil asks as Clint grumbles unhappily about not being allowed to help.

He could be wrong but Phil thinks he might hear a touch of sympathy in the Night Heron’s next words, ‘Because Clint will begin to lose his memories of his human life; he has already begun to do so as he adjusts to his return to the People, and by the time a month has passed he will be too far gone for the change to be undertaken successfully. We could still undertake the change but he would simply have a human form he would not have the memories which make him the Barton you know.’

Phil’s heart almost stops again in his chest as the words sink in and Clint presses tight against him in dismay, ‘No, Phil. No. I would never forget you. Or Tasha. Never.’ 

He pulls back slightly to look up at Phil properly, ‘Promise me that you’ll take me back whatever happens. Even if you can’t find the damn mantle and I can’t be changed back. Please, please don’t leave me here, alone. Promise me that you’ll take me with you when you go, even if you have to keep me in a cage. I’d rather be with you and the team like that than have all the freedom in the world but lose all of you.’

Summoning all his willpower, Phil battens down his emotions and forces his voice not to shake as he replies to that. ‘We will find the mantle, Clint, there is no other option. I promise you that you’ll be coming home with us, as your human self with all your memories. I said that we would turn the world upside down for you and I meant it; we’ll turn it upside down and shake it until the mantle falls out and we’ll do it damn fast.’

Natasha crouches down to put a reassuring hand on Clint’s neck. Tony’s legs are still supporting Phil’s back as he reaches down to settle a hand on the top of Phil’s head and Steve and Bruce step closer to each rest a hand on Phil’s shoulders, the team rallying round them both even if they aren’t sure quite what they’re letting themselves in for yet. Phil’s heart swells as he realises that they’ll live up to his words to the Night Heron and more. Nothing’s going to stand in this team’s way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. A hectic week at work and guests over the weekend meant I didn't manage as much writing time as I'd hoped. I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter but sitting here poking at it continually wasn't really helping, so here it is. That's the really chatty chapters over for now and we should be back to the action in the next instalment.


	6. Chapter 6

Phil briefs the Avengers quickly on the side of the conversation they haven’t been able to hear, explaining the need to find the river otter and retrieve the mantle as soon as they can, before Clint loses everything that makes him the unique and irreplaceable man they’ve all come to love.

‘Do we know where to find this otter?’ asks Bruce, obviously keen to get started now that they have a deadline. ‘This is the largest tropical rainforest in the world and if we’re looking for one mammal then we’re going to have our work cut out for us trying to find it if we don’t have a lead.’

Natasha raises her head from where she’s been whispering softly in Russian to Clint to level a terrifying glare at the Night Heron. Phil has the feeling she’s assessing the best way to ‘interrogate’ the bird and he feels almost inclined to let her, the idea of seeing feathers flying as this pompous creature gets taken down a peg or two by the Widow gives him a brief moment of glee. But they don’t have time to let Tasha play if a simple question will get them moving faster.

‘Where can we find this river otter with the mantle?’ he asks. The Night Heron looks slightly shifty as it cocks its head at them, ‘I am not certain of his exact location these days but the last time we met he was living next to a minor tributary about thirty miles or so downstream from here.’

Bruce shrugs when Phil relays this snippet of information, ‘I’m no expert on the Amazon but I’m pretty certain the feeder streams and rivers have a tendency to shift around between seasons.’ He frowns thoughtfully for a moment, ‘I guess with enough time and the right data sets I could probably work out where the tributary was though,’ his eyes narrow as he starts making calculations in his head but Steve cuts him off before he can get any further.

‘That’d depend on how long ago the last meeting was and anyway won’t he just have moved with the stream when it shifted? They like to be next to the water don’t they?’ he slips the cowl off his head and pushes a hand through his sweat damp hair. ‘If we have an idea where to begin looking we can start to quarter our way out from there and Phil can ask around for information from any other animals we come across.’

Bruce looks slightly abashed, a hint of pink to his cheeks, ‘Yeah, that should work and Jarvis should be able to help us identify the most likely habitats as well,’ he smiles softly at Steve, ‘I have a tendency to overcomplicate things sometimes.’

Steve grins back and clap him on the shoulder, ‘Hey, we’re all guilty of that from time to time, some of us more than others,’ he jerks his thumb at Tony over his shoulder.

‘I can hear you, you know,’ Stark mutters distractedly but he has the faceplate of the suit down again and appears to be talking to Jarvis.

‘When did you last see this otter and how will we be able to recognise him? Does he have any obvious distinguishing features?’ Phil asks the heron. Its head has sunk back on its neck so that it appears to be resting, apparently content with its day’s work.

‘Twenty years ago when the mantle was taken was the last time I laid eyes on the rogue. He is very large, much bigger than the others in his holt and he has a large patch of missing fur covering much of the right side of his face, the result of a fight in his youth I believe. His name is Ariranha and you will undoubtedly hear him and his obnoxious crew before you see them.’

Phil nods once at the bird and then turns his attention back to Clint. He wants to make the most of these last few moments with Barton nestled in his arms before they have to part again. He tightens his arms around the hawk’s body, squeezing him close before lifting his right hand to scratch at the feathers on the back of Clint’s head. Clint makes a soft trilling noise in his throat and his brown eyes close in pleasure at the touch for a moment.

‘You’re not well enough to go trekking around this forest on a wild otter chase, Phil,’ the concern in Clint’s voice is apparent and there’s no point in lying to him, he knows damn well that Phil isn’t fit yet.

‘I may be a bit slower than usual, Barton, but I doubt the others will let anything untoward happen to me. Tasha’s keeping a close eye on me and Bruce has a full med kit with him, plus I have a stash of my meds with me and Stark is under strict instructions to pull me out the second I start to flag, so try not to worry. Just you concentrate on remembering who you are until we get back.’

Clint snorts, it comes out as a strange whistling down his beak, but before he can say anything in response Stark cuts him off.

‘Jarvis has been scanning the satellite images of the area downstream and thinks he has some likely looking spots for us to start the search, going on known otter preferred habitats and the current locations of tributaries. Could be slow going though folks, on foot again by the sound of it.’ 

His faceplate slides up and there is sympathy in his eyes as he focuses on Phil and Clint, ‘We should get started soon. As Bruce pointed out we’re basically looking for a furry fish-eating needle in the world’s biggest greenest haystack here and even with the help of the best tech in the world this could take some time.’ He squeezes Phil’s shoulder and steps back slowly so that Phil doesn’t fall backwards when he moves. Evidently deciding that they aren’t in immediate danger he initiates the suit’s dismantling process, relief painted all over his face as he mutters about installing a better cooling system in it.

With a heavy sigh Phil awkwardly shifts Clint until he’s standing on the ground next to him and then accepts a helping hand to his feet from Natasha. His heart is a leaden weight in his chest as he looks down at the hawk by his feet; it’s only been a few hours since they found him again and to leave him again goes against every instinct Phil has. 

‘We’ll be back for you soon, Clint, and then we can go home.’

Clint nods his head once but otherwise doesn’t move as the team finish readying themselves for the next hike. Phil doesn’t look back as they set off from the clearing again, Stark in front with Jarvis guiding their route, but he can feel the weight of Clint’s eyes on their backs as they go. He doesn’t dare look back for fear that he won’t actually be able to leave if he does.

~

‘You know it really makes a lot of sense when you think about it,’ Stark muses to Phil as they forge their way through the forest.

‘What does?’

‘The whole Barton is actually a hawk thing,’ comes the reply, ‘I mean, it totally explains the impossibly brilliant eyesight. And the ridiculous affinity for extremely high places and insane tendency to jump off them at any given opportunity. Not to mention that creepy habit of glaring at you as though you’re a teeny tiny annoying mouse-like thing that he’d like to pounce on and kill to death.’

‘To be fair Tony, I think you may be the only one who gets that last one directed at them,’ Bruce chimes in, ever the voice of reason.

‘Rubbish. Barton loves me, did you see his face when I showed him the new range at the Tower - double height complete with perches? I totally won him over with that one,’ Stark scoffs back.

Natasha grins at Phil as she shakes her head at the boys but they all have to agree that Tony does have a point, no matter the length of time he’s spent in a human body there are still plenty of hawk-like qualities about Barton the man.

They have to stop and camp for the night in a small clearing and Phil is grateful to be so exhausted that he falls asleep almost instantly and therefore doesn’t have to listen to Stark’s incessant whingeing about the lack of facilities and the number of creepy crawlies. He resolves to remember to tell him in the morning about the way said creepy crawlies are complaining bitterly about the noisy destructive interlopers ruining _their_ night.

~

It takes them nearly three days to find the otters. Three days of hard going and Phil’s patience is starting to wear thin as they meticulously check every feeder stream and river leading into the Amazon around the area the Night Heron had suggested. Jarvis has been relaying data about the known ecology of giant otters but even so there’s plenty of ground to cover. Phil has been making enquiries with the animals they do manage to come across as well but most of the forest creatures can obviously hear them coming from miles away and are avoiding the Avengers completely. 

Eventually on the third morning Phil manages to corner a very displeased looking horned frog and ask him about the otter.

‘Sure, I know where the greedy bastard lives, you wanna take the next river down and then go about two miles upstream on that one. You can’t miss them and you’ll certainly hear them.’

Phil thanks the tiny creature profusely and ignores that even Steve is having trouble hiding an amused smile when he turns back to the others.

‘How is it that my life now involves asking for directions from amphibians in rainforests?’ Stark grouses as they move off again. He’s not enjoying the humidity even without the suit on and both Phil and Steve are struggling to hold onto their tempers around his constant complaining. Steve has taken to bringing up the rear of the group in an effort to put as much distance between them as possible and even Natasha is starting to look a little frayed around the edges. Bruce maintains an aura of calm but Phil thinks that he probably just manages to filter most of what Tony says out into the ambient background noise like Phil has begun to do with the constant chatter of the rainforest around them.

Phil does hear the otters before he sees them, he hears a cacophony of noise coming from around the next bend of the river. He signals the others to stop while he listens and tries to make sense of what he’s hearing. Grateful for the rest the others sink to the ground and start handing round water bottles. Phil props himself against a tree, accepts a water bottle and tries to ignore Bruce fussing over him as he listens intently and hears what appear to be the exuberant whoops and cries of children playing and adults shouting to one another.

‘Over here, over here, he’s got one.’ 

‘Go on, give us a bit, pleeaaase...’ 

‘Mum, mum, they won’t share. Tell ‘em to let me have a bit too.’

‘Oy, that’s mine! Give it back or else...’

‘I’m telling you I heard something big moving this way,’ pipes up an excited high pitched voice.

‘Yeah, yeah, pull the other one matey. You always think you can hear “something comin’ this way”, and it’s always summat harmless.’

‘Yeah, well, this time I really did hear something.’ 

‘He’s right, mate, I heard summat too, only it sounded like there were more than one of ‘em. Making a right old racket they were too.’

‘Alright then, someone go take a look see.’

Phil pushes himself upright away from the tree, apologising quietly to the insects he’s been disturbing on the trunk. He steps down closer towards the bank of the river and looks out along the water. As he watches, scanning across the dark moving surface, a ripple appears, moving out of sync with the rest of the water. Phil fixes his eyes on it and feels an enormous surge of hope when he sees a sleek brown head pop out of the water, like the periscope of a submarine emerging, definitely an otter. The creature lifts its head and neck right out of the water flashing a long muscular neck with large white patches across the throat, the head flashes around quickly until large liquid brown eyes spot Phil. He raises a hand in greeting and the otter lets out a series of loud barks and snorts. 

‘Fuck! Fucking hell!’

‘Guys, there’s a herd of humans here.’

‘Back off. This is our turf. Piss off!’

A bit taken aback by that, Phil takes a moment to respond, but he gets himself together and holds his hands slightly out to the side, palms up to show that he’s not holding any weapons. He has no idea how he’s supposed to do this so he resorts to just calling out across the water.

‘Hello. We mean you no harm, we’re looking for an otter called Arirahna. Do you know where we might be able to find him? Can you help us?’

‘Yeah, I know where he is but he ain’t gonna want to talk to the likes of you so hop it out of ‘ere would ya?’

Phil grins at the otter, ‘Sorry but we won’t be going anywhere until we’ve spoken to Arirahna. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that we’re going to spend a lot of time walking around really loudly in your territory, scaring all the fish away and generally just getting in the way until we do see him.’

‘Bollocks!’ the otter barks, ‘wait here,’ and with a sinuous flick of its tail it disappears under the water again.

‘I think we may have found the group we’re looking for,’ he tells the others, who perk up a bit at the news and start scrambling back to their feet.

A few minutes later the otter returns, at least Phil thinks it’s the same one. It stays out in the water and addresses them from a safe distance. ‘Alright you, just you, can follow me. I’ll take you to the boss man.’

Phil nods and tells the others the plan. ‘Yeah, how about no to that. That’s bullshit, you going off on your own,’ Tony isn’t happy and neither are the rest of them. Oddly enough it’s Natasha who comes to Phil’s rescue this time.

‘Calm down, Stark. Coulson’s a grown agent with a gun of his own and everything. He also has the Avengers on the other end of his comm link. I don’t think a bunch of otters are going to be able to take him down before we can get to him.’

Tony frowns at her, ‘Yeah? Well a week ago I’d have said that a bunch of birds couldn’t take down Hawkeye and then disappear into the Amazon rainforest with him but what do you know, here we are.’

Despite his frayed nerves, Phil knows that Stark is genuinely concerned for him and they all know that he has good reason. On the other hand they don’t have much choice at the moment, every hour of every day that passes is a day closer to losing Barton forever. Phil nods firmly at Steve who frowns but nods back and steps in with Bruce to distract the others while Phil turns to follow the otter.

Following the otter turns out to be easier said than done, given that it stays in the water and moves damn quickly while Phil has to struggle on over land through the thick vegetation. Next time, they’re definitely bringing a boat he thinks as he stumbles over another root, jarring his chest painfully. He pushes round another trunk and stops to look at the mass of activity that is the group of otters who never seem to be still for a moment. They dash in and out of the water, effortlessly graceful in the water, a little less so on the land but fast and agile nonetheless and the constant chatter is back.

He also can’t help but notice how big they are. The smallest of the cubs he can see looks to be just over half a metre in length but the adults are all well over a metre of solid muscle. As he watches, a couple of them yawn to show their extremely impressive teeth and Phil takes heed of the warning. Those teeth could do plenty of damage very quickly if he’s careless. At the same time the scene is endlessly charming, the otters seem to spend as much time playing and chasing each other as they do hunting or catching food and the bits of conversation he hears are all playful, teasing. Rowdy but not quite the gang of vicious thieves the Night Heron had been trying to suggest.

Another otter appears in the centre of the river and raises its head out of the water to look directly at Phil. As it does he sees that the right side of its head is strangely bare of the luxurious fur that covers every inch of the other otters. He meets its eyes and it snorts loudly at him before rolling under the water again. Seconds later the otter emerges from the water on the bank just below Phil. It pauses to shake the excess water from its fur, spattering Phil as it does so. He doesn’t flinch, just raises a world weary eyebrow; he has the feeling that the otter is grinning at him as it lopes up the bank to meet him. Up close he realises that this is definitely the otter he’s looking for. It’s enormous, must be close to three metres from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail and the missing fur on the right side of its face gives it a distinctly roguish look.

‘Alright then,’ the otter greets him, ‘I’m Arirahna and this is my crew. Heard you’re looking for me so what do you want here and what are you offering for it?’

Phil isn’t fooled for a second, the greeting is friendly enough but the huge animal is close enough that it could attack in a split second and though the noise and activity continues around him he knows the other otters are hanging on every word.

‘My name is Coulson and I’m looking for the Night Heron’s mantle,’ Phil replies, deciding there’s no point in beating about the bush.

The otter seems genuinely confused for a moment and then he laughs, ‘So the old bastard still wants his black crown back and he’s sent you to do his dirty work for him has he? What’s he got on you to send you scrambling down here then matey?’

‘He has something that belongs to us and will only return it to us on condition that we find and return his mantle of power to him,’ Phil is wary, the Night Heron said that the otter was a thief and a trickster, but the truth seems the best way forward for the moment. ‘You mentioned a crown?’

‘Yeah. I guess that scoundrel didn’t mention that his “mantle” takes on a different form depending on who’s wearing it eh?’ Arirahna apparently thinks that this is hilarious, wheezing with laughter, ‘When he wears the mantle it forms a black crown on the top of his head and down the back of his neck. When I wore it I had a bib of white fur so pure it damn near fucking glowed down my chest.’

He scowls at Phil, ‘Bit distracting that, makes you a bit obvious too, so not all good eh?’

‘You don’t have it any more?’ Phil feels the hope of a quick fix slipping out of his grasp.

‘Nope, and I told the old bird that the last time he dared to show his face to ask for it.’

‘He knows you don’t have it?’ Phil is distinctly unamused by this turn of events, perhaps he’ll let Tasha have a turn at the heron after all. After they get Clint back.

‘Yep, told him so myself, when he came to collect it. Mind, I can understand why he’s pissed off to ‘ave lost it. Comes in damn handy it does, a boost of power like that, but like I say tends to make you a bit of a target too. Every power hungry sucker in this place can sense it and comes to have a go. Not too bad for the birds I suppose given that they can just hop it on the wing whenever they need to but a bit tedious if you’re a homebody like us.’

Phil sighs, ‘Perhaps you could explain from the beginning your part in this situation. Why did you steal the mantle, crown, bib, whatever and where is it now?’

‘Steal it!’ the otter bares all of his lethal looking teeth at Phil, ‘I may have half-inched a few bits and pieces that no one was looking after properly in my time mate, but that mantle was a loan done fair and square. No thieving required. Anyway what you gonna give me in return for all this information you’re after?’

Phil isn’t sure he has anything to offer that the otters would want and he isn’t really interested in bartering anyway. ‘Tell me what I need to know and we’ll leave and stop disturbing you.’

‘Well, that’s not much of a deal is it matey?’ the otter snorts. 

‘Perhaps not but I know you can hear how noisy they are even from here. And that’s them being quiet. Just imagine how much louder they’ll be if they find out we can’t leave because you won’t divulge a bit of harmless information.’ 

They pause for a moment and even over the chattering of the otters they can hear Tony and Steve shouting to each other. Phil grins as Arirahna winces.

‘No harm in asking. Don’t ask, don’t get, that’s what my mum used to tell me when I was a nipper. Okay then, a good few years back the Night Heron has a spot of bother when some black caimans decided to settle down in his territory and then decided to start nesting there. The birdies can fly off obviously but they need to drink and hunt in the water too so all in all a nursery full of toothy little crocs and their protective parents ain’t an ideal situation for them.’ 

‘Not a lot they could do about it either on their own, so they called in some back up muscle to help persuade the caiman that this wasn’t quite the cosy spot they thought after all. So we make a deal; me and mine’ll go in, all muscle and teeth, and annoy the fuck out of the caiman until they leave and in return we get a loan of the old geezer’s black crown dingus. I needed it to persuade the local tribe to bugger off and leave us in peace you see. Otter fur’s very popular in these parts apparently and I ain’t keen on losing my hide to no one.’

‘So you had a deal with the Night Heron to use the mantle to persuade the locals to leave you alone and then presumably return it to him?’ Phil’s keen to move this along and find out where the damn thing is now.

‘Yep, except when I’d finished using it to persuade the tribesmen that this area of the forest is haunted by something incredibly dangerous and terrifying, plenty of other people knew I had it. I meant to give it straight back to that raggedy old bird but the _boto_ needed to use it too and I owed her. So I says look, you use it and then get it back to me so that I can give it back to the heron but what do you know? I hand it over and that’s the last I see of it.’ 

Phil feels the beginning of a headache coming on, ‘You told the Night Heron this the last time you saw him?’

‘I sure did. He weren’t too happy about it for some reason, but hey, I told him what I’m telling you now - all you need to do is find the _boto_ and ask her to give it back,’ the otter stretches his body sinuously, clearly keen to get back in the water with his family now that it’s clear he’s not getting anything out of this.

‘How do I find this _boto_ and what does she look like?’ Phil asks, trying hard to rein in his frustration.

‘Don’t worry matey, she’ll find you once she hears that you’re looking for her. You’re just her type you are, surprised she hasn’t caught up to you already. I’ll spread the word you want to speak to her and all you have to do is hang around the banks of the main river channel. She’ll find you alright.’ And with that the audience is apparently over as the giant otter turns and bounds into the water so fast Phil barely sees him go, just sees him disappear in a blur of brown fur and a soft splash.

Still at least they know where to come back to if this is another wild goose chase. Phil picks his way back to where he left the others and tries not to let the fear and frustration he feels show on his face. High above him he hears the shrieking cry of a hawk and he’s overtaken by a longing for Clint so fierce it nearly stops him in his tracks.

When he gets back to the others they can see from his face that he doesn’t have the mantle before he even opens his mouth. He slumps to the ground next to them and lets Natasha fuss over him, checking his bandages, as he explains what the otter has just told him.

‘Well, you knew the Night Heron wasn’t telling you everything when we left,’ Steve says quietly and at least we haven’t lost the trail completely.’

Tony has Jarvis scouring data to find out what or who this _boto_ might be and there’s an odd half-smile on his face as he looks up at them.

‘What?’ Bruce asks.

‘Jarvis just pointed out that Barton’s transmitter is still working. That hawk we just heard, it’s Clint, he’s following us, tailing us from above.’

‘Let’s hope that doesn’t count as helping us,’ Steve mutters but Phil can’t find it in his heart to care. The knowledge that Clint’s out there, keeping an eye on them from the sky, means he hasn’t forgotten them yet and that’s good enough for him to cling on to for now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for attempted seduction in this chapter. There's no non-con or even dub-con, just a slightly inept attempt at seduction. But better to be safe than sorry.

The team set up a small basecamp near the main river channel, several miles downstream from the otter’s tributary and settle in to wait for the _boto_ to appear.

After several rather fractious hours on the first day in the camp, Phil sends Steve and Tony back to the Quinjet, ostensibly to replenish supplies and make sure that their transportation out of here is still secure, in reality simply to save everyone’s sanity.

‘Of course it’s secure,’ Tony had snorted, ‘Jarvis is keeping an eye on it and the only thing that’s been near it since we left are curious critters of the furry and feathered variety. Nothing even remotely dangerous.’

Raised eyebrows all round were the only response he got to that, given the nature of the creatures they’ve been dealing with since they arrived. Raising his hands in defeat and conceding that they did need to restock on supplies, Tony had given in and set off, conversing noisily with Steve as they went. Natasha, Bruce and Phil then spent the long long hours waiting for their return trying to rest, even relax, as much as they possibly could with Clint’s fate hanging over their heads and time sliding away from them.

Phil let Bruce give him a thorough checking over but there’s nothing that can be done about the fact that he’s visibly started to lose the weight he’d slowly been putting on again. The climate and the physical demands of moving through the rainforest are taking their toll on his body. Bruce does admit that despite the weight loss he’s doing much better than might be expected, which goes some way to calming Tasha, who unwinds enough to talk quietly to Bruce about whatever research he’s left behind in his lab at the Tower. 

Seeing them together like this, easy in each other’s company, these two people who’ve spent so much of their lives running and hiding, keeping all of their cards close to their chests out of dire necessity, Phil feels a slight easing of the tension in his chest. He hopes that Clint can see them from wherever he is at the moment, knowing that the archer would be pleased to see Tasha warming to someone else. Despite the anxiety that underlies every waking moment, Phil isn’t as tightly wound as he might be. The knowledge that Clint is out there, keeping an eye on them from above, is enough to keep him grounded. It’s not so different to the many missions where Clint is stationed up high and hidden, maintaining radio silence but always with eyes on the team. He may not be able to physically help them on this one but just knowing he’s there is all the assistance Phil needs from him right now.

Phil tries to get comfortable with his back against a tree and focuses in on the constant chatter of the rainforest around them, trying to pick out anything that might be of interest to the team. In particular he tries to listen to the animals in and around the edges of the river, trying to discern any mention of the _boto’s_ imminent arrival.

Jarvis had given them the limited information available on this new creature of interest. _Boto_ was the local word for the native Amazon river dolphin, also commonly known as the pink dolphin. Their hearts had collectively sunk as they realised they were waiting on yet another endangered species but Steve had tried to raise morale by relating tales of dolphins helping swimmers and suggesting that they like to help people. Phil had been cheered by Steve’s confidence until Stark had mentioned that local legend here had it that the dolphins were shapechangers who took human form by night. Nothing in this forest it seemed was what it appeared and even Bruce and Tony, the scientists who might normally have been inclined to scoff at folktales, were subdued by the idea of more ‘magical’ animals to deal with. There’s nothing more they can do now, as much as it chafes at them all, but wait and hope that the otters have kept their word to let the dolphin know they’re waiting for her.

The buzz of conversation, both human and animal around him, combined with the strain on his body lulls Phil into drowsiness as they wait.

~

The noise of Iron Man approaching brings Phil fully awake instantly. As he levers himself to his feet he sees Natasha and Bruce both scanning what little of the sky they can see through the tree canopy and above the river. Stark appears above them but he’s alone, no sign of Rogers. 

The faceplate of the suit flips up as Tony strides into the makeshift camp and although he looks annoyed he doesn’t seem alarmed as he drops packs of supplies onto the ground.

‘Cap’s back at the Quinjet, waiting for us,’ he says quickly, holding a hand up to stall their questions. ‘Jarvis picked up an incoming SHIELD message when we got near the Quinjet. Secure transmission from Fury requesting Captain America, Iron Man and Black Widow report for duty at the helicarrier ASAP.’

Phil doesn’t try to hide his frown at the news because in all honestly he doesn’t want to let any of them go until they have Clint back, but he knows that Fury wouldn’t have called them in if he hadn’t exhausted every other option.

Natasha is taking the news badly, spitting curses in Russian and making it quite clear that she has no intention of leaving Phil or Clint.

‘Yeah,’ Tony says, wincing at her vehemence, ‘that’s pretty much how Cap took it as well. Not keen on leaving any of his team behind that man...’ he trails off and Phil knows they’re all thinking about Steve’s history. 

‘But he knows that if they’re calling us in it’s gotta be something a little more serious than the usual,’ Stark continues and he’s talking for Natasha’s benefit now. ‘So he agreed to wait while I came to pick you up.’ He turns to Phil and Bruce, ‘We’ve been given clearance to return to your location the second we’re not required on the ground and that’s exactly what we’ll do. Here,’ he hands Phil part of a gauntlet he unclips from the Iron Man suit which fastens around Phil’s wrist as he accepts it.

‘It’ll send constant updates on your location to Jarvis. It will also act as a communication uplink to Jarvis so don’t be too alarmed if he suddenly starts talking on your comm link. He’ll give you as much support as he can and will be able to keep us informed about each other’s movements.’

Phil nods his thanks and turns to Natasha who’s fallen silent as she glares at the ground in front of her feet. Phil knows he’s on shaky ground here. Natasha has been loyal to SHIELD, grateful that they took her on when Clint chose to bring her in, instead of eliminating her the way another agency might have done. But her loyalties have always lain more with Clint and to a lesser extent Phil than with the organisation itself. Duty might be enough to bring Captain America around but Tasha’s going to need a little more than just a message from Fury to drop everything and come running when Clint’s future is at stake.

Stepping in close, Phil puts a hand on her arm and lowers his voice so he’s speaking just to her. ‘Tasha, they wouldn’t try to call you away from Clint if it wasn’t vital. Bruce and I are just going to be sitting here waiting for this damn dolphin to turn up anyway.’ He feels the fine tremor running through her body and he squeezes her arm gently, ‘Stark will be able to keep you informed of anything that happens here, if we move you’ll be able to find us and the sooner you go the sooner you’ll be back with us.’

She looks up to meet his eyes and raises a hand to rest lightly against his cheek, ‘He’ll kill me if anything happens to you and I’m not here to protect you.’ Phil huffs a soft breath and smiles wryly at her, ‘So hurry and get back here then. Besides I’m going to be sitting here with a doctor who also happens to be the Hulk, if he can’t protect us both then we really will be in trouble.’ The worried frown doesn’t shift from her face so Phil throws in a low blow, ‘You know Clint would be devastated if he was responsible for the Avengers initiative breaking up before it even really got started. Rogers and Stark need to know they can rely on you to have their backs.’

That gets a flurry of Russian soft enough that even Phil can’t make it out but she rises to press a kiss to his cheek and then turns to Bruce, ‘I’m holding you responsible for his welfare, Bruce. He’d better still be in one piece when I get back.’

Phil lets out a breath he didn’t quite realise he was holding as Bruce smiles solemnly at Natasha and assures her he won’t let Phil out of his sight for a second. Stark grips Phil’s good shoulder firmly, ‘You’d better not do anything stupid while we’re gone, Agent,’ and there’s an undercurrent of deep concern that he doesn’t hide too well around any of them anymore.

‘Of all the people in this camp who’re likely to do something stupid, I don’t think I’m the one we should be worrying about,’ Phil deadpans.

‘Yeah, that worked a lot better before you went out alone to let Loki carve you up,’ Stark’s grip tightens but then he lets go and turns to Natasha. ‘Ok, Widow. The world apparently requires us to save its ass again. Let’s get on it and get back here in time for tea.’ Natasha steps up to his side and lets him wrap an arm around her, though her eyes remain fixed on Phil. Stark flips the faceplate back down and Bruce steps up beside Phil as they watch the two of them disappear into the sky.

They spend the final hours of daylight going through the provisions Tony had brought with him, sorting them into packs in case they need to break camp quickly, and aimlessly wondering what the others are going up against. They agree that trying to get in as much sleep as they can is as good a way to pass the time as any other and Bruce offers to take first watch. Phil tries to calm his mind and let himself drift off but it’s easier said than done when he now has the welfare of three more members of the team to worry about as well as Clint.

~

Phil wakes with a creeping sensation of unease prickling under his skin, keeping him lying motionless, eyes closed, breathing regular, while his senses try to identify whatever’s responsible for waking him.

The subtle noise of something moving stealthily towards him over the leaf litter from the direction of the river snags his attention. The rainforest is never truly quiet, this holds true just as much at night as during the daylight hours, so the lack of other background noise is alarming. He risks opening his eyes just a crack and through his eyelashes sees that Bruce is slumped against a tree, eyes closed, snoring lightly. Phil lets his hand inch very slowly towards his closest hidden knife and the tips of his fingers brush the hilt before he lets his eyes open any further to assess the situation.

He half opens his eyes and sweeps them in the direction of the river and the movement he’s hearing. A lone figure is approaching the camp, silhouetted against the low horizon, the moonlight glinting off the water behind providing more than enough light as his eyes begin to adjust. A low throaty chuckle escapes the figure and Phil realises he’s been spotted. There’s no reason to keep up the illusion of sleep so he raises himself up on one elbow for a better look at the approaching individual, using the movement to cover his hand loosening the knife in its sheath. Reaching for his gun could be too easily interpreted as an overt threat but he has no intention of being completely unprepared.

A tall willowy woman with long dark hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders is drawing slowly closer. She holds her hands slightly out to the sides, palms up and open in the universal sign that she is unarmed. In the moonlight her smooth pale skin gleams and the short sleeveless shift she’s wearing lets plenty of it show. She takes her time approaching, clearly showing herself off.

Phil gives her a professional once over from the vulnerable delicate soles of her bare feet on the forest floor to the crown of her lovely head. She’s striking but her nose is a trifle too large, mouth a little too wide for true beauty. The laughter in her dark eyes and the mischief in her smile would probably more than make up for that in most cases Phil suspects. Content that she’s not harbouring any obvious weapons or providing a distraction for accomplices Phil sits up and raises a questioning eyebrow at his new guest.

‘Coulson, I presume,’ she says, her voice warm and low as she pauses a few paces away from him. ‘I’ve been hearing a lot about you and your quest for the mantle.’

‘I’m afraid you have the advantage of me there ma'am,’ Phil gives her a small smile of his own, no harm in playing along until he finds out what she’s here for. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know your name or why you’re here.’

The woman cocks her head at him and gives him a disapproving look, ‘Come now, river gossip is surprisingly accurate and I know you aren’t stupid. Arirahna told you to wait here for the _boto_ to find you and here you are waiting. Two and two ought to make four don’t you think?’ She smiles at him as she crosses the last few steps towards him and then does take him by surprise as she swiftly lowers herself to settle across his lap. 

‘You can call me Loloanna,’ she says softly as she takes his face in her hands and presses that wide mouth against his own. Phil goes with it and lets her kiss him, cataloguing the more than human strength in the slender fingers against his face and sliding down over his neck, the disparity between the heavy weight resting on his thighs and the apparently slender form pressing against his chest. There’s a subtle sweet scent filling his nose and her hips fill his palms nicely as he slides his hands to rest against them.

She draws back with a soft sigh of satisfaction, a gleam in her eyes that says she thinks Phil is either already in the palm of her hand or soon will be. Phil’s kind of glad Natasha isn’t here to witness this. The _boto_ is lovely and he can well imagine that this trick of appearing in the middle of the night, all long limbs and sultry eyes and voice works wonders to seduce villagers and tourists but Phil has seen the Black Widow in action and this creature doesn’t even come close. She’s overplaying her hand, coming on too strong and too fast, overconfident; Tasha would be plain embarrassed by this amateur performance.

‘I’d say that in this case two and two just made the leap straight to twenty-two,’ Phil says firmly.

Loloanna throws her head back to expose the slender length of her neck and laughs quietly, ‘I’m a firm believer in taking what I want, Coulson, when I see it. It doesn’t do to waste opportunities out here.’ She slides a hand into his hair and uses it to hold his head steady as she leans back into him.

Phil wraps a hand around her wrist and pulls her hand away, avoiding her mouth as he replies, ‘Is that what you did with the mantle? Took the opportunity Arirahna gave you to take what you wanted?’

She seems puzzled by his reaction, or perhaps more likely, his lack of reaction to her. ‘The mantle? Yes, I took the opportunity to use it. I needed it then, needed its power to boost my own. But what does that have to do with this chance here and now to take what I want, strong clever man?’ Her sharp teeth show in a wicked little smile as she reaches for the neck of Phil’s shirt with her free hand and rolls her hips down against his.

Trapping the other hand Phil looks up at her in exasperation, ‘Loloanna, I’m sorry but this isn’t going to work. You’re just not my type.’

For a fleeting moment a stunned look crosses her face, but she just chuckles throatily and leans forward in his grasp to trail her lips against his neck, ‘I’m every man’s type and I always get what I want in the end.’

Phil’s nowhere near his full strength and he’s bone weary but he’s still more than good enough to be able to twist and flip so that the annoying creature ends up sprawled on her back a good few feet away. This time the surprised look stays on her face but she manages a half smile as she sits up and brushes that silky hair out of her face. It’s difficult to look dignified recovering from that but she almost pulls it off.

‘I don’t understand,’ she says quietly, ‘you shouldn’t be able to resist me. The rest of it holds true; he sleeps still,’ she says pointing at Bruce, who’s going to have a hell of a crick in his neck from having fallen asleep in a highly unusual position when the ‘magic’ took him.

‘Perhaps not, but here we are. Do you have the Night Heron’s mantle?’ Phil is happier having this conversation with her at a distance. He sees her looking thoughtfully at the river and quickly adjusts his position so that he’s standing between the _boto_ and the water.

She frowns up at him, ‘You should know better than to get between a wild animal and their home, Coulson.’ He shrugs and waits for an answer. 

‘I used Arirahna’s debt to me to force him to give up the mantle once he’d scared off the villagers. Sweetened the deal by persuading the anaconda in his little stream to move on.’ She looks up at him coquettishly through long eyelashes, ‘I can be so very persuasive when I want to be.’

‘I’ll just bet you can,’ Phil mutters dryly.

She grins, those sharp teeth making an appearance again. ‘He would never have given it up otherwise, no matter what he claims now.’ Her hands clench into fists against her thighs, ‘I needed it, needed the power it gave. Needed to protect my son.’

Loloanna makes a funny graceful little gesture with one hand that somehow manages to indicate distaste, ‘We can only maintain this form at night you see. During the day we must return to the river and our natural forms, but at night, if we wish we can take these odd human forms and seduce those we wish.’ Her face falls, ‘There are fewer and fewer of my people, fewer and fewer calves born, fewer who survive. We need to find healthy breeding stock where we can.’

Phil isn’t quite sure if he should be flattered or offended by that particular statement, but she’s giving him the information he needs so he lets her continue without interruption.

‘I was pregnant with the child of a village chieftain, a healthy son growing inside me, but his other wives were jealous. I knew it wouldn’t take them long to persuade him that I was an evil spirit if I continued to disappear during the day and my excuses were becoming less and less believable. The mantle was the easy solution to the problem as with it I could maintain this form even during the daylight hours.’ 

She throws back her head and her laughter rings out, real joy in it, ‘Those other fools didn’t stand a chance then, he was besotted and I was able to stay close to my son when he was born, protect him from them all. Teach him his true nature.’ Her smile is genuine, obvious pride and love as she gazes towards the river again. She rises to her feet, graceful and steps towards Phil, her eyes locked to his. She doesn’t reach out or try to touch him, just gazes at him with those big dark eyes as she continues.

‘You know what it’s like don’t you, Coulson? To be willing to sacrifice yourself for another’s safety. To let yourself fade into the background, to become something else to ensure the one you love reaches their potential. You do it without even thinking about it now, don’t you? Second nature to put others ahead of yourself.’

He maintains his stoic expression as he gazes solidly back into her eyes, unflinching though she’s hit a nerve at last.

‘Years, I spent in their company, set apart from my own people. Years, I waited, for my son to grow into his true strength, but it was worth it. It was all worth it.’

‘Do you still have it? The mantle?’ Phil’s voice is low and calm and she’s close enough to hear him easily.

‘No,’ there’s a bitter note to her lovely voice, ‘no. It was taken from me. If I had it still we would not be having this conversation now, we would be much better engaged,’ the corners of her lips curve up slightly but it’s not a come-on this time, just a statement of fact.

‘What happened?’

A shudder ripples over her tall frame and for a brief second her eyes close. ‘The dragon happened. The dragon came and he demanded the mantle. I refused of course, by then I was so enamoured of its power I was willing to sacrifice everything to keep it. Or so I thought.’

Phil feels like his eyebrows must be nearly in his hairline by now. Dragons? Surely she can’t be serious?

‘You fought to keep the mantle?’

‘I did. We did. I lost three of my pod. Three! A quarter of us. And not a scratch on its hide to show for it. I would have kept going too but my son begged me to stop. Love is a powerful force is it not? More powerful even than the lust for power it seems.’

‘So a dragon has the mantle now?’ Phil feels strangely calm given the words he’s just uttered, his heartbeat is steady and he feels more relaxed than he has in days, loose and easy.

‘Yes,’ Loloanna says softly, ‘the dragon has it, though I doubt if it even needs it. It just likes to collect powerful things.’ She smiles up at Phil and the predatory look in her eyes jolts him. ‘I like to collect powerful things too, Coulson.’ 

Phil takes a step back, he hadn’t realised she’d gotten quite so close, and a splashing sound from his feet causes him to tear his eyes away from hers. Somehow she’s manoeuvred him right down to the river’s edge. He snaps his eyes back to her face as one of her inhumanly strong hands wraps around his bicep.

‘You’d make a fine addition to my pod. We need you.’ To his surprise she sounds as though she means it, as though she’s offering him a better option than he currently has. ‘Come with me and I will look after you.’

‘No,’ he says firmly, ‘I still need to help them. Still need to get him back.’ 

As he thinks about Clint, thinks about the promises made in those smiles in Stark’s tower, he feels his head clear and his heart begin to pound fiercely. Before she can react he has his gun out and pressed against the _boto’s_ ribcage, forcing her back a step until his feet are clear of the sluggish water.

Loloanna shrugs helplessly at him in a way that says she can’t be blamed for trying and he shakes his head, suddenly very weary, as he realises her power must be stronger closer to the water that is her home.

Despite the gun she keeps her grip on his arm and squeezes gently, ‘I do like you, my offer still stands. But you will not be free until he is, I suppose, so I’ll tell you this. The dragon can be found in a cave to the north and east of here, at the base of the mountains where the forest ends. You must not kill him to take the mantle or all its power will be lost. It can only be given up freely by its existing owner or it will be useless to you. So be very careful, my Coulson,’ she strokes her other hand gently down his face, ‘don’t kill it and don’t get killed. If you change your mind, just come back to the river bank and call my name. I’ll find you wherever you are.’

The _boto_ leans in swiftly and presses her lips to his, nipping cheekily at his lower lip, before she lets go of him and slips past him to the river bank. Phil keeps his gun on her carefully but his eyes blur for a moment as she shifts form and where one moment a lovely woman stood thigh deep in the river, now the pale head and beak of a dolphin bobs in the water. Its mouth opens to show its sharp teeth and Phil recognises that grin. He raises a hand in farewell before turning to go and see if he can wake Bruce. He can just picture his face when he tells him they’re now on a dragon quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, getting close to the final action now with only a couple of chapters and maybe a wee epilogue left. Hope you're still enjoying it.


	8. Chapter 8

As they speed past the banks of the river and the sides of the rickety vessel they’re in shudder against the force of the water rushing past, Phil sends up a heartfelt prayer that it’ll hold together long enough to get them to their destination. The small taciturn man, who clutches the tiller of the enormous engine strapped to the narrow decrepit boat, glowers at them from under his incongruous battered baseball cap, but he claims that he can take them to a village close to the cave with the dragon, so Phil doesn’t much care whether he likes them or not. 

Phil had felt spectacularly foolish asking at the first village they came across about the location of a dragon but the villagers had just looked at each other curiously and shrugged before directing them down to the river and their current cantankerous guide. Bruce had taken one look at the boat and shrugged as he dropped their packs into it.

‘I’ve travelled in worse than this. It’s probably sturdier than it looks.’

‘Probably?’ For some reason Phil wasn’t much comforted by such a glowing reassurance but on the other hand he’d have taken anything that would get them to the dragon and then back to Clint quicker than their own weary feet.

Bruce is currently nestled down against their packs in the middle of the low-sided vessel, eyes closed, face relaxed. Phil sighs and lets his eyes drift back to the water, his mind drift back to Clint, wondering if he can keep up with them at this pace or if they’re leaving him behind again. He should be able to use the device Stark gave him to check with Jarvis when they get to their destination but he’s almost frightened to do so. They’ve spent so much time chasing around since Clint was changed, he’s terrified of how much Clint might have forgotten already, worried that he’ll check with Jarvis and find that Clint’s not with them anymore. Closing his eyes, Phil tries to will away his worries and catch up on some of the sleep he’s missed before they get to their next destination.

They arrive at the village just before dusk and Phil hands over a wad of cash to the little boatman that nearly makes his eyes pop clean out of his head. He still doesn’t say much, just grins toothily and asks if he should wait for them, obviously hoping for an equally profitable return journey. Phil shrugs and asks him to wait for a couple of days, they’ll get a message to him one way or another if they need him to wait longer.

Shouldering their packs, Bruce and he make their way into the village and ask about the dragon’s cave, only to be met with appalled silence and cold shoulders from everyone they try to speak to. Just as Phil’s mounting frustration is about to boil over, a small child, who can’t be more than eight years old, walks determinedly up to him and grabs his hand, tugging on it and towing him off through the village with Bruce following bemused behind them. When she reaches one of the larger structures, she drags Phil up the rough wooden steps and through the open door. Bruce follows, poking his head around the door to look uncertainly at the bustle of activity within before entering.

‘Papa, this man wants to know about the dragon,’ the little girl says loudly, before turning to look up at Phil and patting his hand gently as she lets go of it, ‘Papa can tell you.’

A heavily built man seated on a low stool towards the back of the large busy single room of the house looks at Phil and Bruce quizzically, before turning to his daughter, ‘Nita, you know you’re not supposed to talk about the dragon.’ There’s a weariness to the way he says it that suggests this is a conversation they’ve had many times before. Nita shrugs at her father and sighs in a put upon manner before turning to go and help one of the women around the cooking fire.

The man turns back to them, rising from his seat to step forward and greet them properly, ‘My name is João, I am headman here. We don’t often get visitors to our village but we will do our best to make you welcome.’

Phil smiles at him in what he hopes is a reassuring manner, ‘I’m Phil Coulson and this is Bruce Banner. I hope that we won’t trouble you for very long, sir. Your daughter is correct, we are seeking information on the dragon and we’ll be moving on as soon as we can. We can pay well for the information we need, if you can give it to us.’

João frowns and his eyes drop to the floor in front of them before he gestures to them to take a seat on the floor with him. ‘We do not speak of the dragon here,’ he shoots a pointed glance at his daughter, who sticks her tongue out at him when he isn’t looking making Bruce smile. ‘To do so is said to be bad luck, we believe that it will bring the curse of the creature down upon the village. That it will come down from it’s lair and steal our children away one at a time as it used to do. We do our best to ignore it as far as we can and doing so has served us well. Why are you asking about the creature?’

‘We must find the dragon’s lair, it has taken something that we need to retrieve to save a friend.’ Phil cuts to the chase, there’s no point in lying about why they’re here, he just wants directions to the cave.

‘You want to kill it then?’ João seems incredulous, ‘Our ancestors tried many times to kill the creature but no one has ever succeeded and no one in living memory has even tried.’

‘No,’ Phil raises his hands swiftly, ‘we don’t want to kill it.’ He feels ridiculous as he says it but he carries on anyway, ‘We just need to persuade it to give us the item we need and then we’ll leave it in peace.’

João barks with laughter, ‘Just like that, you’re going to persuade the dragon to give up part of its treasure to you. Many have tried to steal from it’s cave in times gone by and again no one has ever succeeded. It is jealous of it’s possessions.’

‘I have no doubt that it won’t be easy, sir, but we must try. We must succeed. Can you tell me about the dragon itself? Does it breathe fire? Does it have wings?’

The expression on João’s face clearly shows that he now thinks Phil is an idiot after all. ‘Fire? Wings? No, of course not. Where would you get such ideas? It is very large in size though, at least the length of this house from jaws to tail. It has huge claws and many many sharp teeth. One scratch from its claws or teeth is said to be fatal, a slow lingering death even if you can escape being eaten. It is deceptively fast and has a scaled hide so tough that the blade of a spear cannot penetrate it.’

João waits while Phil translates this for Bruce, who seems relieved, ‘At least we don’t have to worry about being burned alive then.’ 

‘You say that you try to ignore the dragon now, does that mean that you don’t know for certain that it’s still alive and in it’s cave?’

‘It’s still there. Our legends say that when the creature first came to this place it preyed upon our people, taking children to satisfy it’s raging hunger. When the elders realised that even our mightiest warriors couldn’t kill it, they asked the dragon what they could do to stop it eating the young ones. The creature demanded a sacrifice every half year, a single cow or three goats to be left outside it’s cave. The elders agreed, the tribute was paid and the creature took no more children. We still leave the tribute and it is still taken, the creature lives still, though it goes abroad outside it’s lair very little these days.’

‘Couldn’t something else, some other animal be taking the tribute?’ Phil hopes not, if the dragon is dead there’s no knowing where the mantle might be.

‘No, the men who take the tribute to the cave remain hidden nearby to make sure that nothing else steals the carcasses until the dragon takes them. We don’t want to bring it’s wrath upon the village because some hungry jaguar takes a fancy to an easy meal.’ João smiles, but there’s an edge to it that tells Phil he doesn’t appreciate that Phil might be insinuating his people are stupid.

Phil nods, ‘Your people have spoken to the dragon in the past then? Negotiated with it?’

‘So the stories say,’ João shrugs, ‘but no one has tried in generations. They also say that if you can trap the creature by its tail it will grant you a wish or give you your heart’s desire, something like that anyway.’

Phil raises an eyebrow sceptically but the other man just shrugs again as Phil asks, ‘Can you tell us where the cave is?’

‘Of course. However, you’re in luck, tomorrow at dawn we take the tribute up to the cave so you can go with the others and see the creature for yourself. Perhaps you’ll change your mind once you’ve seen it?’

Phil shakes his head, ‘I’m afraid there’s no chance of that. We must speak to it, there’s no other choice. Is there a place we can stay in the village tonight? We can pay for our lodging.’

João grins at him, ‘You can stay here, of course. My son is one of the tribute bearers tomorrow so he can wake you when it’s time to go. For now, eat with us and then get some sleep. We need to have the tribute at the cave by dawn so you’ll need to rise very early.’

Phil thanks him and then he spends the evening telling João’s wide eyed younger children about New York and trying to translate Bruce’s explanations of the mysteries of the latest modern technology before they’re all hustled off to bed. They’re given pallets close to the door so that they won’t disturb too many people when they have to go.

~

It seems as though Phil has barely closed his eyes when he wakes, just as a young man is reaching out to touch him. The family resemblance is so strong that he knows this must be João’s son. The boy touches a finger to his lips with a smile and moves softly to wake Bruce as Phil tries to stretch the kinks from his back. Thoughts of the enormous bed with it’s perfectly firm mattress back at Stark Tower taunt him as he winces at the aches in his joints when he stands. Bruce looks equally rumpled and weary as he blearily scrabbles for his pack, so at least it isn’t just him who’s feeling the strain. 

Phil is about to leave a roll of cash on his pallet for João as payment for their accommodation and information, when the man himself appears picking his way through the sleeping pallets towards them. He’s carrying a huge strangely shaped spear and there’s a sheepish look on his face as he motions them outside.

Standing a few feet from the house he hands Phil the spear, ‘This was my great grandfather’s dragon spear. You should take it with you, perhaps it will help you in your task.’

Phil looks at the strange V-shaped, slightly blunt blades of the spear and then back at João.

‘I told you that you’re supposed to trap the dragon by its tail to get your wish granted. Well, this spear is for pinning the dragon’s tail.’ He looks a bit embarrassed, ‘It can’t hurt to have it with you. You may not get a wish granted but if nothing else it might help you to hold it long enough to talk to it.’

Phil hefts the enormous oddly weighted spear as Bruce looks on curiously, ‘Thank you, João, for all your help. I’ll do my best to get this back to you in one piece but in case we don’t return, please accept this as payment.’

João accepts the money, but seems strangely reluctant, ‘I don’t like to accept money from fools with a deathwish but we can use it to help the village in many ways, so thank you.’ He claps Phil on the shoulder and turns to do the same to Bruce, ‘Good luck to you, you’re going to need it,’ he says before heading back inside to his bed.

Around them several other young men lift the carcass of a cow strung on poles onto their shoulders and João’s son signals them to move off. Phil and Bruce join onto the back of the small group and as they begin the hike Phil explains the significance of the spear to Bruce who inspects the weapon curiously.

~

The carcass is staked outside the cave at the base of a cliff just before dawn. The young men from the village have disappeared into the trees at the edge of the forest where they will keep watch until the dragon emerges to take the tribute. Phil and Bruce are waiting at the edge of the forest as well, they want to see just what they’re going up against before they rush in.

They don’t have to wait long and they hear the dragon coming before they see it. A strange sequence of clicking followed by a slow dragging noise gradually gets louder before a long yellowish forked tongue appears, flicking out from the dark interior of the cave. For several long minutes nothing else happens, just the tongue flicking out and back. Then the clicking, dragging noise starts up again and a blunt snout comes into view, seemingly all mouth. 

As they watch the mouth parts to let that thick forked tongue flick out again and Phil can see rows of serrated teeth tinged with red. Small black eyes peer out from the back of the large broad head and then a long thick, muscular neck comes into view. The creature pauses a final time before finally coming out into the open and giving Phil and Bruce a good look. It’s enormous. Phil estimates maybe a touch under seventeen feet from its snout to the tip of its tail and nearly five feet from the ground to the top of its shoulders. The strange noises are now easily explained, the clicking was the sound of the dragon’s enormous curved claws on the bare rock of the cave floor and the dragging noise was caused by the enormous long thick tail which stretches out behind it.

The dragon crosses the open ground in front of the cave and pauses again momentarily, the big head swinging from side to side, as though checking for intruders, tongue flickering again. Then it begins to eat, it uses its sharp teeth to rip into the hide of the cow, gripping on to the flesh and then using the huge neck muscles to rip enormous chunks of flesh off before swallowing them whole. Behind Phil, Bruce gags as blood and gobbets of flesh spatter the ground. The dragon stops sharply and its head swings from side to side again, the enormous tail suddenly whips round in their direction and both Phil and Bruce hold their breath. João was right, Phil thinks, if the creature can move a tail that looks like it could fell a tree that fast, then they will have to be very careful indeed not to get hit by it.

After several nervous minutes the dragon resumes eating and Phil signals to Bruce to move further back into the trees. When he thinks they’re far enough away not to be heard, Phil slumps to the ground and Bruce joins him.

‘Well, that was disgusting. Now we know why João thought we were going to get eaten,’ Bruce shudders. 

‘Yep, I can’t say I’m exactly filled with confidence right now,’ Phil agrees, ‘if we could kill it I could probably take it out with a rifle from the forest but that won’t do us any good.’ He frowns up at the canopy above him. ‘Jarvis, does this device allow you to pick up any of what we just saw?’

‘My apologies, Agent Coulson,‘ Jarvis responds. ‘I’m afraid Sir did not install any cameras or external monitoring devices to this part of the suit. It’s only supposed to act as a communication and tracking device. It has a torch function should that be of any help, sir.’

‘Yeah, I thought as much,’ Phil sighs, ‘if we describe the creature we just saw can you see if it matches up to any known species?’

‘Certainly, sir, I will do my best.’

Phil and Bruce spend a few minutes describing the creature to the best of their abilities, and between them they do a good enough job. Jarvis is able to respond with an answer, of sorts, within five minutes.

‘Agent Coulson, the animal you have described most closely resembles the description of a Komodo Dragon, a species of large monitor lizard which is found in the Indonesian islands. The size of this specimen is unprecedented, as is its presence in this location. Sir, I would advise extreme caution should you decide to approach the animal; Komodo dragons have a venomous bite which combined with the pathogenic bacteria in its saliva make it incredibly dangerous.’

‘That would explain why João said that anybody bitten by the creature dies even if they escape from it,’ Bruce mutters and he begins digging through the med kits they have with them. ‘I don’t think we have anything here that’s going to be able to cope with a pathogenic bite, not to mention that we don’t have any appropriate anti-venom.’

‘Then I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get bitten,’ Phil says calmly, ‘but at least now we know for certain it isn’t some creature out of childhood stories.’

‘You mean we, of course,’ Bruce replies. 

‘No, I meant what I said. We can’t risk both of us getting injured or killed by the dragon. I’m the only one of us that can make myself understood to it, so I’ll go and talk to it and you can cover me from the edge of the forest with the rifle. If necessary you can try to wound a leg to slow it down,’ Phil is firm.

‘I can go in as the Hulk and try to pin it down long enough for you to talk it into giving the mantle up. I doubt the venom and pathogens would be able to harm the Hulk,’ Bruce argues.

‘Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but the dragon has finished eating and moved back into the cave,’ Jarvis tells them.

Phil curses briefly and furiously, he’d thought they’d have more time but they’d obviously disturbed the creature enough to make it hurry its meal.

‘Well, that’s that then, I’m sorry Bruce, but we can’t risk you going into the cave. If the Hulk was to put in an appearance in there it could bring the whole place down on our heads and that helps no one.’ Bruce looks ready to argue again so Phil asks Jarvis, ‘Can you update us on the status of the other Avengers please?’

‘Certainly, sir. Agent Barton is currently circling the open ground between the cave and forest at great height. Iron Man, Captain Rogers and Agent Romanov are currently finishing debriefing from their operation with Deputy Director Hill on site. They should be free to return to your location within hours.’

‘Good,’ Phil looks at Bruce, ‘here’s the plan. I’m going to go into the cave and do whatever needs to be done to get that mantle and then I’m going to come back out here, we’re going to wait for the others and then go and get Barton changed back.’ He holds up a hand to stop Bruce before he starts, ‘You are going to wait at the edge of the trees and if the team arrives before I get back, you’re going to stop them from coming in there after me. God knows what’ll happen if Stark comes barging into the middle of it.’

Bruce sighs and his shoulders slump, ‘Natasha’s going to kill me,’ he mutters. Phil snorts, ‘There are worse ways to go. Come on, lets get this over.’

Phil leaves Bruce at the edge of the trees and crosses to the cave’s entrance. The interior is dimly lit and Phil can only see that the wide entrance narrows as the cave goes deeper into the cliff. Hefting the cumbersome dragon spear, he steps inside and makes his way cautiously forward, hugging the wall, pausing every now and then to listen for signs of the dragon. The further he goes the darker it gets until he’s walking blind, feeling his way forward and feeling as though he’s making enough noise to wake a hundred dragons.

After a while he feels the cave beginning to open up again and he nearly stumbles as his right foot kicks something hard. He drops to a crouch at once, all his senses straining forwards. From the darkness ahead of him a dry slithering sound, scaly skin moving against rock he thinks, alerts him to the presence of his quarry. He grips the shaft of the spear tightly and prepares to move forwards again when he feels a movement of air to one side. Phil leaps backwards and narrowly avoids being crushed against the wall of the cave by the dragon’s tail. The tip of it catches his left leg and sends him sprawling onto his back. He scrabbles backwards and yells ‘Jarvis, light!’ as he closes his eyes tightly.

Blinding light streams out from the device on Phil’s wrist as he keeps moving backwards. A grating bellow comes from in front of him and Phil eases his eyes open to see the dragon backing away, eyes blinking rapidly, blinded by the beam of light. He clambers to his feet and runs past the dragon further into the wide cavern beyond it before it can become accustomed to the light. He barely manages to leap over the creature’s tail as it whips back towards him but he makes it safely behind a large boulder and crouches to catch his breath. 

Beyond the boulder he can hear the dragon wheezing and figuring he has nothing to lose he’s about to call out when the dragon beats him to it.

‘Coulson, I presume. I’ve been expecting you. I know why you’re here, creeping into my home to steal from me. Come out from there, little man.’

‘You seem to be misinformed, sir. I haven’t come to steal anything, I’m here to ask you to return an item that does not belong to you.’ Phil is moving before he’s finished speaking, racing to the next shelter, behind an enormous stalagmite, just as the dragon rounds the boulder, those giant curved claws gouging at the rock. It is fast and Phil realises he’s going to need to try to use the spear to pin the creature in one place or it will wear him down all too quickly in his current state of health. 

The dragon doesn’t respond to his words, just pauses, head turning from side to side, the long forked yellow tongue flicking out again. It’s testing the air, Phil realises, scenting him out without needing to see where he is. He looks around desperately searching for a way to turn this fight to his advantage. The dragon is fast and very powerful but doesn’t appear very agile. Phil wishes he had Clint or Natasha’s acrobatic skills right now but he’s going to have to work with what he has. On the other side of the cavern he can make out a group of thick stalactites and stalagmites which will give him his best chance of avoiding teeth, claws and tail for a short time. The familiar click drag noise of the dragon’s approach draws closer. Phil leaves it until the last second and then bursts from cover heading straight for the rock formations across the cave.

The dragon roars and bends itself almost in two as its front claws lash out at Phil. He feels one catch in the leg of his trousers and rip down, sharp pain blooms in his leg but he keeps going. He can feel the foetid breath of the creature gusting across his back as he reaches the first stalagmite and thanks god the damn thing can’t actually breathe fire. He maintains his speed and weaves through the columns of the rock formations as fast as he can before dashing to the side. Risking a look behind him he sees that just as he’d hoped the dragon has been forced to slow down in the confined space between the upright structures. 

Phil focuses the beam of light from the device on his wrist straight into the dragon’s eyes again and when it roars and shuts his eyes he sprints as fast as he can back around the base of the stalagmites. He spots a useful rock and uses it to push off as he jumps as high as he can straight up over the dragon’s lashing tail, then uses the full force of his body weight to bring the spear down onto the tail.

Despite its apparently blunt edges, the points of the spear drive down into the rock either side of the tail and the V-shaped blades crush into the scales causing them to buckle and jam against the spear. The dragon roars when it feels the spear clamp its tail to the cavern floor and thrashes furiously, slamming into the mineral columns on either side of it. The lower end of the tail catches Phil and flicks him across the floor of the cave until he crashes into a rock. The breath is driven from his lungs as pain lances through his still healing body and red spots dance across his vision. He clings desperately to consciousness, knowing that if he blacks out now, he may end up as dessert for the dragon if it frees itself.

Sucking in deep gulps of the foul air in the cave, Phil coughs harshly and frowns at the drops of blood that drop onto the floor. As the dragon continues to roar and thrash, gouging huge chunks from the stone, he keeps an eye on it and takes a quick inventory of his injuries and surroundings. He’s in a lot of pain, his chest feels as though it’s on fire but a fast check confirms no broken ribs of limbs. The gash to his leg from the dragon’s claw isn’t deep but it’s oozing blood. Phil uses his knife to cut the ruined lower leg of his trousers away and wraps it around the wound. He’ll just have to hope the dragon’s claws aren’t as venomous as its teeth and get Bruce to deal with it when he gets out.

Scanning the cave he quickly sees that it’s filled with an assortment of odd items. There are bits and pieces of gold glinting in the light from the device and what appear to be precious gems lying around, as well as other strange bits and pieces. Phil has no idea what they might be but presumably they have value to the dragon.

As Phil looks back to the dragon it quietens and the powerful neck bends towards him. The beady black eyes focus on him and Phil feels a shudder run through him as the huge mouth gapes open and those wicked teeth show. Its tongue flickers out towards him and it makes an odd hissing chuckling sound.

‘I can smell your blood, Coulson. I can taste it from here,’ it hisses at him. ‘You’re lucky I’d just eaten, I’m always slow and torpid after a big meal.’

Phil drags himself to his feet and winces as he tests his leg. It’ll take his weight now but for how long he’s not sure. 

‘If you know who I am, you probably know that I’m here for the Night Heron’s mantle as well,’ Phil says as calmly as he can.

‘I do,’ the dragon replies. ‘I see the old bird finally found someone either brave enough or stupid enough to come and try to take it from me. Perhaps both? I confess that I’m surprised you managed to find one of the old spears. There are few left and still fewer who have the knowledge and ability to wield them successfully.’ It sighs, an odd hissing wheeze, ‘What do you intend to do now? If you kill me to take it, the mantle becomes useless to you so it seems to me that we are at an impasse.’

Phil’s been thinking about this a lot since the boto told them that the mantle can’t be taken by force. The only solution seems to be either to appeal to the creature’s better nature and ask it to give it up willingly, which clearly isn’t going to happen. Or he can offer to trade something for it. The problem there is that he hasn’t been able to work out what he has to offer that the dragon might want.

‘I understand that to be the case, yes,’ he responds, ‘perhaps we can come to some arrangement? Perhaps there is something that you would accept in exchange for the mantle?’

The dragon makes that strange hissing, wheezing chuckle again, ‘Do you think you have anything of equal worth that you can offer for it?’ it asks.

‘Tell me what you want for it and I will provide it,’ Phil says firmly, refusing to consider that it will be something he can’t get hold of.

The dragon is silent for a long moment, before very slowly blinking its eyes at Phil, ‘I am very old, Coulson. Old and tired. When I first came to this place over a century ago, it seemed a good place to settle. Food was abundant, this cave was ideally situated and there were many good nesting sites. I was content here for many many years, but now I am tired. I will give you what you seek if you can identify it from amongst all my treasures here. On one condition.’

‘What condition?’ Phil hardly dares breathe, anxiety clutching at his throat makes it hard to force the words out.

‘That if I give you the mantle of my own free will, that you will swear an oath to help me in one task.’

‘What task?’ Phil knows it can’t be that simple, there’s a trick here. “And how do you know I’ll keep my word.’

‘I will tell you the task when you have found the mantle and have sworn your oath. You are an honourable man, Coulson. If you were not a true hero, the shaft of the dragon spear would have twisted in your hands, the blades would have bent rather than piercing the stone of this cave. Only a man true of spirit and heart can wield the dragon spear properly, but you knew this already or you would never have come here to try to use it,’ the dragon blinks at him slowly. ‘If you guess incorrectly, however, you must release me and leave this place with nothing.’

Phil feels his knees begin to buckle as he realises that he hadn’t had the full story about the spear before he got here. Fuck, he’s just been judged by an inanimate object. But apparently found worthy. He lets out a shaky breath and turns to survey the piles of objects around him, remembering that the mantle takes a different form depending on which animal has been its owner. 

A quick survey reveals piles of gold and jewels but also weapons, cloaks, drinking goblets and dishes. There are also odd objects that Phil feels uncomfortable just approaching, skulls and bones that chill him as he gets near them, that don’t appear to be the remains of meals but radiate a sense of menace. He leaves them well alone. The dragon settles itself onto the floor and rests its head on its crossed front legs as it watches him. 

What could be hours or minutes later, Phil spies what appears to be a rug or cloak of scales, peeking out from under a heap of weapons. Taking hold of it, Phil pulls at it until it comes loose. It must be about six feet square and it’s definitely made of a similar scaled hide to that which covers the dragon. He looks down at it as he smoothes a hand across it and remembers telling Bruce that they could use a rifle to slow the dragon down. Looking at this, he wonders if even a bullet would penetrate it. He bundles the hide into his arms and limps back across to the dragon, being careful to stay well out of its reach.

‘I’ve located the Night Heron’s mantle,’ he tells it and hopes he sounds more confident than he feels, if he’s wrong about this all hope of getting Clint back will be gone.

‘Where is it?’ the dragon asks, nothing in its tone or gaze giving anything away.

Phil drops the hide in his arms to the floor and then points to a patch of mottled red scales across the dragon’s own shoulders. ‘There it is, you’re still wearing it. The search was just a test.’

‘Hmmm,’ the dragon rises up onto its feet again and bares its red-stained teeth at Phil, in what he will later think may have been a smile. ‘You are correct, Coulson and you have passed my test. Had you chosen some of the more interesting objects in here the results would have been ... unpleasant for you. So you have proved that you are wise, as well as brave, just the man I need. Very well, swear to me that you will assist me in one task and I will give you the mantle.’

Phil swallows hard, he’s so close but he needs to know what he’s promising to do before he can accept. The dragon must see his hesitation, for it speaks again, ‘I will not ask you to do anything that might compromise your hero’s morals, Coulson. I give you my own word upon this.’

‘Fine,’ Phil takes a deep breath, ‘I swear that I will help you to complete the task you require of me.’

The dragon sighs, as though it wasn’t sure he would agree and then in a scene that will haunt Phil’s dreams for quite some time it reaches around and with its vicious claws rips into its own hide. It slowly peels away a large section of the hide across its shoulders and down its back, blood oozes from the muscle below as the dragon flays itself until finally it tosses the section of bloody hide in front of Phil.

‘My skin will repair itself quickly but until it does I am vulnerable, so I will not leave the cave for some time. The favour I would ask of you is this - a little over four decades ago my mate was guarding our nest site where a clutch of three eggs were incubating. I was hunting for food and when I returned there was no trace of my mate to be found and the eggs were also gone. A large swathe of forest had been cleared in a path leading towards the coast. I want you to find out what happened to my mate, where she was taken, if she still lives.’

Phil frowns at the floor, he can hear the loneliness and grief in the dragon’s voice but surely the capture of a creature the size of this one would have made the news so perhaps the task won’t be too difficult.

‘I’ll do whatever I can. Was she the same size as you?’ he asks.

‘No, she was much smaller, only around half my length,’ the dragon sounds wistful, ‘she was really very petite. The other hide you have there is part of a skin she shed just after we came here. Take it with you if it will help.’

Phil gathers both hides and tries to hide the shiver of disgust at the still warm, bloody mass he holds.

‘I will find her and return her to you or find out what happened and return to tell you,’ he promises. He walks to the dragon’s tail and debates the wisdom of what he’s about to do before taking a firm hold of the shaft of the spear and yanking at it. It comes loose with startling ease and Phil backs off quickly. The dragon doesn’t move, clearly sensing his anxiety; it just watches him, tongue flickering, as he backs towards the entrance of the cave and begins to make his way up the long passage back out to the forest.

When he finally reaches the main entrance of the cave, Phil’s exhausted. His body is crashing from adrenaline and fear and the injuries he’s received. He drags himself out into the open, propping himself up on the spear in time to see Bruce trying to fend off the rest of the Avengers as they shout at each other and try to get past him to the cave. ‘He said you weren’t to go in there after him,’ Bruce is yelling and the others are arguing with him. 

The sky is just starting to darken and Phil realises he must have been in the cave for hours. Natasha spots him first and pushes past Bruce, who takes his life in his hands when he tries to grab at her.

‘Phil!’ she catches him as his wounded leg finally gives way and then the rest of the team are crowding around him, all talking at the same time as she lowers him to the ground.

‘I’ve got it,’ he says quietly, ‘I’ve got the mantle. We can go get Barton back.’ Tasha’s hands are cool against his brow as she smooths her hand across it and leans down to kiss his forehead. He can vaguely hear all their voices talking to him, asking questions, and far above him the sound of a hawk crying but they all sound very far away as he holds tight to the bloody dragon hide, and sinks into the welcoming blackness of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up, I hope it was worth it for those of you who were waiting.


	9. Chapter 9

The Quinjet is never the most comfortable place to wake up and this time is no different. Trying to sit up, Phil jars the IV lines in his arm and alerts Tasha, whose face stays calm even as her eyes flash with emotion. The strongest ones, the ones he can read, are anger, fear and relief. Phil can sympathise, he’s feeling a few of those himself.

‘You had us worried there for a moment, Coulson. Again.’

Phil digs up a tired smile from somewhere and lets himself flop back down on the bench, ‘Sorry, Agent. Just doing my job. Again.’

Possibly not his wisest choice of words and she looks as though she’s about to start tearing strips off him when Bruce steps in to his rescue, ‘How are you feeling, Phil?’

‘Much better than I would have expected. How long was I out?’ The Quinjet is stationary and Phil has no idea if they’ve moved locations while he was unconscious.

Bruce gives him a wry weary sort of smile as he checks the IV’s, ‘We’ve got you hooked up to all the drugs Medical will allow us to use on you, that’s why your feeling ok. Wait until we have to start weaning you back off them again, then you’re gonna feel it. You were unconscious for a couple of hours, long enough for us to get you back here and patched up. You’re lucky that was a claw injury to your leg rather than a bite, no pathogens as far as I can tell.’

Natasha takes over, ‘We’re back at our original landing location, as close as we can get to the Night Heron’s location. Bruce assured us that you were going to wake up sooner rather than later and there didn’t seem much point in waiting where we were. I thought you’d rather be here and ready to set off back into the forest at first light so we took off once we had you aboard and Bruce had you stabilised.’

Phil gives her a pleased nod, ‘Good job, Agent, as usual. In that case we should all get as much sleep as we can in preparation for another hike once the sun is up.’ More sleep shouldn’t be too much of a problem for him, he feels like he could sleep for a week.

‘Any chance that you could fill us in on what happened while we were away, sir?’ Steve appears from up front with Tony and sits on the bench opposite Phil.

‘Of course,’ Phil agrees, though he lets Bruce tell as much of the story as he can, filling in the gaps where he needs too. Steve fills them in on what they’ve been up to while away as they eat unappetising MREs and Tony fantasises lyrically about the number of pizzas and burgers he’s going to order when they get back to civilisation. When they finally settle down for the night, Phil isn’t surprised that Natasha’s head ends up resting against his shoulder, her hand tucked into his. He’s a little more surprised by how close the others pack themselves in around him, but as the inside of the jet fills with their quiet breathing he lets it lull him back into sleep.

~

‘Ok, folks. Let’s get this show on the road.’ Steve pulls a pack towards him and starts loading water bottles into it. It’s barely dawn but the rest of the team are already gathering kit while Stark steps outside and initiates the Iron Man suit. They’ve already agreed that Phil is in no condition to make the journey on foot again, so Stark will fly Phil up and then they’ll rendezvous with the rest of the team just to the south of the clearing. 

When they’re all ready and gathered outside Tony opens his arms wide and gives Phil his most obnoxious grin, ‘Step into my arms, secret agent man, and let me give you the ride of your life.’

Phil rolls his eyes and lets a smile slip onto his face when he hears Natasha muttering behind him, ‘So not ever gonna be that good, Stark.’ Before Tony can respond Phil steps up close to him and wraps his arms around the chest of the suit and says, ‘Shall we?’

‘I thought you’d never ask, Agent,’ the faceplate slides down. Phil hears one of the others yell, ‘Take it easy with him, Stark,’ before everything else is drowned out by the suit and wind rushing past his ears.

~

There’s a tense air of expectation running through the whole team as they make their way once again to the bird’s clearing. They don’t bother to split up this time, they know what to expect when they walk in together and no one flinches when the shrieking whirlwind avian mass explodes into movement above their heads. They stand together, Phil in the middle holding the dragon-hide mantle in his arms, and wait until the Night Heron’s hoarse cry rings out calling the other birds to order.

In the centre of the clearing the familiar lanky figure of the Night Heron stands tall on its yellow legs. ‘Agent Coulson, you have returned. May I presume that you have succeeded in your task?’ the Night Heron appears outwardly calm but Phil can hear the eagerness in its voice.

‘Where’s Barton?’ Phil isn’t handing the damn mantle over until he knows Clint is still safe.

‘He’s right here,’ the heron responds quickly, ‘though he’s had a long and arduous journey following you around.’ From somewhere up high behind the heron the familiar form of the Harris hawk swoops down to land between the heron and the Avengers.

‘I’m right here, guys and I am so ready to go home.’ Barton stretches his wings wide, then ruffles his feathers into order but doesn’t take his eyes from Phil for a moment.

Phil steps past Steve so that he’s in full view of all the birds but his eyes are locked on Clint as he holds up the mantle. ‘Here it is, we have completed your task. Now change Barton back to his human form as we agreed.’

‘So eager to give it up, Coulson?’ there’s something sly in the Night Heron’s tone that sets Phil on edge. ‘I know what you’ve been through to get hold of it, I know the physical and mental toll this task has taken on you...’

‘Yes, it’s been very difficult but that was rather the point wasn’t it?’ Phil cuts him off, he doesn’t want to talk about it, he just wants Clint back. ‘That I prove myself worthy of having Barton entrusted back into my world? Well, here it is, mission accomplished, now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the bargain.’

The Night Heron blinks slowly, ‘Haven’t you been tempted to try the mantle for yourself, Coulson? I know that you can feel the power in it, I know that your fingers must itch to throw it over your shoulders and claim it. Increased strength and stamina? Just will it and it will be so. Do you want to fly without a clunky suit? Put on the mantle and the sky is yours to enjoy. Perfect aim, increased intelligence - the mantle can do all of this and more. Were you to claim it for yourself you would be able to make yourself the equal of any of your companions. Think of all the good you could do in your world with its power.’

Clint cuts in before Phil can react, ‘Who says he isn’t already the equal of everyone on this team? He’s already superior. Far and away above the rest of us. You’ve seen what he’s capable of, he sure as hell doesn’t need any help to prove anything to anyone here.’

Phil feels his heart try to beat its way out of his chest at those words, at the proof of the unshakeable belief that Clint has in him. After everything they’ve been through recently, Phil _died_ for Christ’s sake, proved how infinitely fallible he is and Clint still believes him in. He’s lost for words for a long moment as he tries to remember how to breathe but then he pulls himself together.

‘No, I don’t want it,’ he has felt it though, a tingle that jolts through him whenever he touches the hide, but he hasn’t even considered using it. Getting Barton back is more important than any meagre power could be, and it hasn’t exactly brought much joy to any of its previous owners.

‘I don’t need to be special, that’s what the Avengers are for. They don’t need me on a power trip,’ he puts as much force in his voice as he can. ‘We don’t need or want your mantle. We do need and want Clint Barton returned to us.’

In front of him Clint makes a soft trilling sound in his throat and Phil wants to touch him, soothe him but he stays where he is and faces down the Night Heron.

‘Very well,’ the tall bird acquiesces at last, though there’s a slightly shifty look to the way it cocks its head at them. ‘I will need the mantle to complete the transformation, I don’t have the power otherwise.’

Phil snorts, so much for this being a quest to prove their worthiness. For a moment he considers that the bird may take the mantle and then refuse to change Barton back but there isn’t much they can do to prevent that, so he shrugs and flings the blood stained dragon hide into the centre of the clearing in front of the Night Heron.

The team crowds close around Phil as the Night Heron steps forward and then stoops low to poke its head beneath the hide. As they watch the bird wriggles the rest of its body underneath the mantle and just as Phil is wondering if perhaps they’ve brought the wrong thing after all there’s an odd moment where his eyes blur and he hears the others murmur behind him.

When their eyes clear the dragon hide has disappeared and the Night Heron stands tall and proud before them. Where he had previously been a somewhat drab dull grey colour the Night Heron now has a glorious black crown running from just above the top of his beak over his head and down his back. There’s a sheen to his plumage and a gleam in the red eyes that hadn’t been there before and Phil holds his breath and prays to any passing deity that might care to listen that the creature before them will hold to their deal.

The Night Heron spreads its wings wide and opens its beak to let out a strident cry that causes the gathered birds in the trees all around to join in. The combination of calls is almost deafening and Phil is hard pressed not to cover his ears, but soon enough the cacophony dies down and the Night Heron lowers its wings.

The newly majestic bird turns its focus to Clint. ‘Are you sure that you still want to return to that unfortunate form? It was meant as a punishment, to drag your brother down from the skies until he atoned for his actions.’ It pauses for a moment to let the impact of its words sink in, ‘You’ve had a chance now to experience what your life can be like in your true form, to feel the joy of the wind in your feathers, you know what you will be giving up this time. Are you sure?’

‘Hell, yes, I’m sure.’ Clint doesn’t hesitate for a second as he looks at Phil and the Avengers behind him, ‘I want to go home, back to my life, my people. Change me back.’

Phil grins down at the hawk in front of him, thankful that they managed to get back here soon enough that Clint’s retained enough memory of his human life to remember that he wants to go back to it.

‘There can be no coming back from this transformation, Clint Barton. This is your last chance to keep your freedom. Choose wisely,’ the Night Heron urges.

‘There is no choice to be made,’ Clint is firm, ‘do it. Change me back.’

The heron sighs and makes a strange shrugging movement with its wings, ‘Very well. Stand well back, Coulson.’

Phil quickly gives the rest of the team a run down on what’s happening as he takes a couple of steps backwards. The Night Heron raises its wings high and lets out a piercing shrieking call. Once again the other birds in the clearing join in with the cry but this time all the cries seem to merge into a single wavering call and the humans are forced to cover their ears at the deafening power of it. Tears stream from Phil’s eyes as the force of the noise exerts a fierce pressure but he holds out, desperate to keep his eyes fixed on Clint’s hawk form, until he can bear it no longer and his eyes squeeze shut for just a second. When he forces them open again, it’s his turn to cry out, because standing in the centre of the clearing is the very human, very naked form of Clint Barton.

Clint looks down at himself, looks across at the team, blinks confusedly for a second and then crumples to the ground in a heap.

Phil is at his side before he even registers that his limbs have moved. He rolls Clint onto his back, an arm wrapped around his broad shoulders, the other searching his pockets for an emergency foil blanket to wrap around the prone archer.

‘Phil?’ Clint blinks up at him, his left hand reaching up to curve around the side of Phil’s neck. A frown creases across his, oh so familiar and all the more appreciated for it, face, ‘Fuck, Phil, you look terrible.’

He can’t help himself, the laughter bubbles up from deep down inside and Phil shakes with it as he holds Clint close, ‘Thanks, Barton,’ the soft smile on his face feels unfamiliar, ‘you look amazing.’

Clint has apparently decided that they aren’t going to waste even a second now that they’re in compatible forms again. Phil’s mouth is open to call the others over when Clint tugs hard on the hand around his neck and pulls Phil down until he can surge up to meet him and press their mouths together in a kiss that is somehow simultaneously both the sweetest and most scorching Phil has ever experienced. His arms tighten around Clint as he draws him closer and he has a suspicion that may have been him letting out a deeply undignified moan. When he draws back, some unknown length of time later, he presses his lips to Clint’s forehead for a long moment, eyes closed trying to take in the reality of it all. 

He pulls back and looks over his shoulder to where the rest of the Avengers are being unusually tactful, but as soon as he does they’re engulfed by the team, all desperate to see and touch Barton for themselves. They’re all talking at once and Clint is completely overwhelmed and obviously delighted, especially when Bruce hands him a pair of spare pants from his pack.

‘Thanks Bruce, you’re a hero,’ Clint smiles at him as he pulls them on. Bruce shrugs, ‘I always carry a spare pair these days. Never know when I’m gonna need them.’

‘Heh, yeah, guess we’ll just have to make sure you don’t turn green before we get back then.’ 

Bruce grins, ‘I have more with me, one of the perks of being an Avenger is apparently multiple pairs of trousers.’ 

Clint wraps the foil blanket around his shoulders and then casually rests a hand on Phil’s shoulder as they turn back to the Night Heron who’s watching them with unconcealed curiosity.

‘You have done us a great service, Agent Coulson, by returning the mantle to us. We are in your debt. Should you ever have need of our assistance you may call on us and we will do all we can to help.’ The bird lowers its head in a sort of half bow and then cocks its head to one side.

Phil shakes his head firmly, he thinks of all the things he’d wanted to say to this creature given that it had evidently known about the dragon from the start but sent them on a wild goose chase anyway. None of it matters now though, they have Clint back and he just wants to take him home.

‘Thank you for the offer but we had an agreement and you have fulfilled your part in it by returning Barton to his chosen form. You’ve done more than enough here, so we’ll take our leave now.’ 

Clint chuckles softly as he picks up on Phil’s poorly concealed sarcasm and the hand on Phil’s shoulder squeezes gently, encouraging him to turn away so that they can head back to the Quinjet.

‘The offer still stands, Coulson. Good fortune go with you Clint Barton, I hope your choice proves wise. Fair winds carry you safely home,’ the Night Heron bobs its head again and then turns to stalk in long jerky strides into the forest. Overhead the other birds begin to call and disperse and Phil heaves a long sigh, ‘Okay everyone, looks like we’re good to head back to the jet and home.’

Stark steps forward and rests a heavy suited hand on Phil’s other shoulder, ‘Need a lift back down, Coulson?’ 

Clint’s hand tightens on his shoulder and Phil shakes his head wearily. Now that it’s all over and they have him safely back Phil is loathe to leave Clint’s side for even a second but it will take them forever to get back to the Quinjet if they have to keep waiting for him. Clint solves the problem for him, ‘Yeah, he does, he’s exhausted. Can you take him and then come back for me? My feet are gonna get ripped to shreds if I try to walk back like this.’

Stark grins at them, ‘Make the most of it Barton, right at the moment I’m so damned glad to see your handsome face I’d fly you to the moon if you asked.’

‘No need to go quite that far, just to the Quinjet will do,’ Clint claps him on the suit’s shoulder. ‘Just you be careful with Coulson though Stark, I want him still in one piece when I get there.’

The wounded expression on Tony’s face makes them all laugh as he grouses, ‘I’m always careful,’ and tugs Phil close before he fires up the suit properly again. Phil experiences a brief moment of panic at the loss of physical contact with Clint but sucks it up and consoles himself that Tony will soon be bringing the archer back to his side.

~

When they’re finally all back at the Quinjet, the real reunion begins. Everyone hugs Clint and it’s a painfully familiar loud chaos as they all talk at once and share what they all hope will be the final MRE meal. Clint has changed into standard SHIELD issue combat trousers and shirt and he’s stretched out along one of the benches with Phil settled between his thighs and pulled back against his chest, the IV lines taped into his arm again on Bruce’s insistence. Phil hadn’t put up too much of a fight, distracted by the feel of Barton wrapped around him and Clint’s genuine concern.

‘Jesus, Phil, you’re a mess. You’ve lost so much weight and you’re so banged up I hardly feel sure I should touch you at all.’

Grabbing Clint’s hands and pulling them around him, Phil heaves a sigh, ‘Don’t be so dramatic, I’m fine.’

‘You’re not fine. Not even remotely.’ Clint glares at the rest of the team, ‘Why didn’t you guys take better care of him? How could you let him get so hurt again when he was still recovering?’

Natasha glares at Phil, she doesn’t even need to say that she told him so, but Phil’s feeling bold with Clint’s arms around him, so he just rolls his eyes at her.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Tony who leaps to Phil’s defence, ‘Give it a rest, Barton. Fuck, Coulson fought a real live dragon for you. Single handed. The least you can do is be grateful for it rather than giving him abuse.’

Phil winces, Tony no doubt means well, but he’s just giving Clint more reason to be concerned. ‘It’s not like it was a real dragon,’ he mutters, ‘no wings, no fire breathing, nothing like that at all.’

Bruce decides to join in, ‘It was real enough if you ask me, Phil. Real enough to almost kill you again.’

Clint’s arms tighten and he presses his forehead against the back of Phil’s head, ‘Bruce is right, Phil. I saw that thing when it came out of the cave and it was huge. I can’t believe you went after it on your own, you should have waited for the others. It wasn’t worth you risking your life again.’

‘Yes, it was. You are worth every risk any of us took to get you back and I would do it all again right now if I had to without a second thought,’ Phil cranes his neck round so that he can look at Clint as he speaks to him. He waves a hand at the rest of the team, ‘And so would they. Bruce wanted to go after the dragon too.’ Bruce flushes and mumbles something about the Hulk under his breath as Tasha grins and nudges him with her foot from where she’s sitting tucked against Clint’s back.

Stark grins, ‘You know, I’d feel a whole lot better playing the blame game once we get back to the tower, where you two idiots can recover from this properly and finally get your acts together.’ He actually waggles his eyebrows at them and Phil would live quite happily for the rest of his life if he never saw that particular expression on Tony’s face again, but he has a feeling he’s going to be seeing a whole lot more of it.

Steve grins at them and says, ‘Yep, for once Tony and I are totally in agreement. There’s absolutely no reason why we shouldn’t continue this fascinating conversation at home.’

Tony claps him on the shoulder and they head up front to get the jet underway. Phil settles back against Clint and smiles at the groan that rumbles through the younger man’s chest as Tasha reminds him that he’s going to be facing the most intensive debrief and battery of tests known to man when SHIELD get hold of him again.

As Phil starts to drift, lulled by the warmth of Clint’s body and the pleasant sensation of his thumb running lightly back and forth across Phil’s forearm, he sees Bruce in the corner of his eye pull the other dragon hide onto his lap. He can hear him muttering about DNA analysis as he drifts off, content and relaxed for the first time since the hawk appeared in the tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there now folks. Just one more chapter to go - a sort of epilogue to round things up. Thanks for sticking with this.


	10. Chapter 10

Phil closes the door to his suite behind him and allows himself a weary sigh as he slumps back against it. It’s been a very long day and he’s glad to be back here at last, where he can shed the professional shell of Agent Coulson and just be plain old Phil.

He grins as he hears humming from deeper within the suite and pushes himself away from the door, shedding his jacket onto the back of the couch as he goes. He slides a finger into the knot of his tie to loosen it as he reaches the bedroom and hears movement from the en-suite bathroom.

‘Hey, I’ll be out in a minute. Don’t start without me,’ Clint yells and Phil snorts softly. In the two weeks since they returned from the rainforest with Clint in human form, they’ve discovered that Clint really likes to undress Phil. It’s not necessarily a sexual thing, well, it hasn’t been so far given the state of Phil’s health; he just seems to like the casual easy touches, the domesticity of it all. He also likes the discovery that Phil isn’t a neat-freak, that he’s quite happy to drop things on the floor tonight and pick them up tomorrow if that’s how the evening’s going.

Clint appears out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel slung low round his hips, hair sticking up all over where he’s been scrubbing it dry, wicked smile curving his lips and making Phil’s breath catch. He wraps an arm around Phil’s waist and presses that sinful mouth of his against Phil’s in a fierce swift kiss, before nuzzling his face into Phil’s neck. ‘Hey, glad you’re home. How did it go?’

Phil hugs him close for a moment, breathing in the scent of warm clean Clint and revelling in it before letting him step back so that the younger man’s agile fingers can reach up to finish undoing Phil’s tie.

‘It went fine, the medical team have agreed that the two weeks of enforced rest and recuperation have done me good and I’ve been cleared to resume light duties,’ Phil grimaces slightly, glad that the medical evaluation is over for now.

‘Deskwork, huh?’ Clint grins as he drops the tie over the back of a chair and starts on the buttons of Phil’s shirt, ‘We all know how much you’ll enjoy that. What else did they say?’

‘Well, they weren’t quite sure what to expect given how new the treatment I’ve received is, but they think that the extreme conditions and raised level of activity in the rainforest forced the nano-tech to work harder and as a result I’m recovering far faster than they could have predicted.’

‘You do like to exceed expectations, Agent Coulson,’ Clint smirks at him as he pushes the shirt over Phil’s shoulders and down his arms.

‘Uh huh,’ Phil agrees and takes over pulling his undershirt off while Clint works on his belt and trousers, ‘how did your evals go today?’

‘Pretty good, I think, but it’s kinda hard to tell. I’m not sure the shrinks even know what they’re looking for; they’ve never had to deal with someone who’s actually a hawk before. I think I’ve finally baffled them this time, but that was the last of them for a while as well,’ Clint chuckles as he drops to his knees to unlace Phil’s shoes so that he can step out of the rest of his clothes. He runs his hands up Phil’s thighs as he smoothly rises back to his feet, skimming them over his underwear until they rest at his waist, flexing as he kisses Phil again, slow and easy.

Clint pulls back with a last soft nip at Phil’s lower lip which leaves it tingling. The wicked smile returns as he backs away towards the bed, ‘Cleared for light duties, eh? Sounds good to me, I can think of some light duties I’d like to perform right now.’

Wincing at the terrible pun and shaking his head at Clint, Phil pushes the bathroom door open and goes to take care of washing away the tension of the day. As he showers he lets his mind wander, letting it sift through the information from the day so that when he steps out it’s roughly sorted and he can let his focus shift back to the amazing man lying in his bed without any other distractions. He cleans his teeth and takes his medication, still a whole plethora of drugs but at least the dosages have been reduced today, and then checks his scars. They’re still ugly, still raised and obvious but no longer painful to the touch. Looking at himself in the mirror he still isn’t sure what Clint sees in him but he isn’t about to question it either, not when he finally has the archer where he wants him.

‘Did Bruce tell you that we’ve managed to find the dragon’s mate?’ he asks from the bathroom while finishing up his ablutions.

‘No, but I haven’t really seen much of him today,’ comes the slightly muffled response.

‘Yeah, it turned out to be much easier than we’d anticipated, which makes a welcome change. They’re really hard to keep in captivity and it’s almost impossible to get them to breed so when we checked we found there are only around 60 individuals held in zoos and institutions around the world...’ Phil walks out of the bathroom only to stop, dazed, in the doorway. Clint is lying on his back in the centre of the decadently large bed, now completely naked and stretching languorously. It’s an image that’s worth savouring so Phil leans against the doorjamb and takes the time to fully appreciate it. 

Clint’s arms are fully extended above his head, even his fingers are fully outstretched, his head tilted back to show the beautiful lines of his strong neck. His torso rolls into the stretch, broad chest expanding and the powerful slabs of muscle in his stomach and across his hips undulate with the movement. The solid muscles of his thighs and elegant calves contract and release, even his feet and toes flex into it. Phil’s mouth goes dry as he stares and memorises every last blisteringly hot detail, his own fingers flexing with the irresistible urge to touch.

Clint’s eyes blink open as he relaxes back into the bed and turns his head to look for Phil. ‘Only 60 huh? Guess that would make it easier to track her down.’

Phil swallows hard before he can kick his brain back into gear, Clint clearly has no clue that he’s just fried Phil’s brain, he’s pretty much oblivious to his own attractiveness most of the time and the effect he can have on Phil without even trying.

‘Um, yeah, much easier,’ Phil says thickly and Clint finally catches on as he notices how flushed and flustered Phil is. He raises his eyebrows and pats the bed next to him invitingly, but Phil manfully holds his ground because once he gets within touching distance of all that clean warm skin all hope of coherent conversation is going to be lost.

‘We managed to pull up the records of when each institution acquired their dragons against when our dragon was taken, which narrowed the search even further to just six individuals. Bruce completed the DNA analysis on a sample from the hide we brought back with us and then it was just a matter of getting samples from the six dragons and comparing them. We found her in a zoo in Minnesota of all places.’

‘So what happens now?’ Clint folds his hands behind his head and Phil doesn’t even bother to stop his eyes tracking the way that makes his chest flex. ‘Stark made them an offer they couldn’t refuse and Fury agreed to use the Quinjet to transport her back to the rainforest. Natasha, Steve and Tony are going to pick her up and take her back to the cave to reunite her with her mate in a couple of days. It might have been easier if the AllSpeak had lasted long enough for me to be able to explain to her what’s going on, as it could be dangerous to sedate her, but I’m sure they’ll manage.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure between the three of them they can handle one small dragon. Mind you they don’t quite have your dragon wrangling skills, Coulson. Sure you want to trust them with that?’ Clint smirks.

‘One thing I do know is that neither you or I will be going anywhere near that damn rainforest anytime soon,’ Phil counters quickly, ‘and if three Avengers can’t handle her after their heavily injured handler took down a dragon twice that size then they probably ought to think about their career choices.’

He pushes away from the doorway and moves to the bed, settling next to Clint and relishing the way the archer instantly tries to mould himself around his body.

‘So,’ Clint sighs happily as his hand strokes up and down Phil’s torso, ‘this whole mess is nearly all over then?’ 

‘Yep,’ it’s Phil’s turn to sigh as Clint’s mouth finds a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. He lets himself sink into the delicious sensations and stops thinking about dragons, dolphins, otters and herons and concentrates solely on Clint, here in his bed and his arms. He cups a hand behind Clint’s neck and draws him up so that he can take his mouth in a searing kiss that makes everything else in the world disappear. Clint kisses with all the focus he uses when shooting and just this is enough to make Phil’s toes curl in pure delight.

Phil lets his hands wander, tracing over Clint’s broad shoulders, mapping the planes and dips of his back as the muscles shift and flex under his widespread palms. He moans into Clint’s mouth at the wet shift and press of Clint’s firm lips and the delicious slide of their tongues together, gasping when Clint sucks firmly. 

They’ve fallen into this, whatever it is they’re doing, since they got back from the rainforest when they could barely stand to be separated from one another at all, but they’ve never really talked about it, content just to go with the flow and see where it leads. So far it’s led them into each other’s beds every night, Phil’s more often than not and Phil is wondering if he should just ask Clint to move his stuff in here. He hasn’t because he’s nervous that it might seem too much too soon, too much of a cage and he doesn’t ever want Clint to feel trapped. He thinks about Clint soaring above him when he was a hawk and how tethered he must feel now with his true nature so fresh in his memories and the knowledge that he can’t ever go back to it.

‘Hey? You okay?’ Clint’s voice is concerned and Phil curses himself internally for allowing himself to become even a little distracted.

‘Do you miss it,’ he asks very quietly, ‘do you regret it?’

‘No, never. Not even for a second Phil,’ Clint’s face is serious as he cups a hand around Phil’s jaw and meets his eyes. ‘Sure, I miss the freedom of flying, the sensation of it, the wind all around me, through my feathers, holding me up. I... I can’t describe it properly to you,’ his expression softens into a fond smile, ‘there’s nothing else like it.’

‘But listen to me, Phil, it doesn’t compare, nothing compares to the feeling of being here in your arms. Being back with my team, my family. Being with _you_ ,’ he pulls gently at Phil until Phil’s lying on top of him, arms bracketing Clint’s head and shoulders as he tries to keep some of his weight off him. ‘There is nothing better than this, than being surrounded by you, claimed by you. I was so alone, Phil, I felt lost and alone and now I feel so safe here, so cared for and I’ve never really had that before. So, no, I don’t regret it, none of it and I never will.’

Phil closes his eyes, overwhelmed for a moment by the strength of his feelings for this man, before smiling down at him and hoping his happiness is showing through. ‘Good,’ he says and whatever else he was going to say is lost as Clint presses up to kiss him again and all capacity for lucid thought evaporates from his mind.

Clint loves to kiss and they’ve spent many hours since their return like this, exploring what they like best and Phil loves finding the little spots that make Clint moan, the best combination of teeth and tongue and pressure against his throat to makes him gasp and arch into it. But tonight he wants more, they’ve been taking it slowly and carefully while Phil heals and puts some weight back on and tonight Phil is so much more than ready to move things along.

He rolls them over pulling Clint half on top of him, urging Clint’s thigh between his own and grinning at the other man’s surprised groan of approval. He rolls his hips up against Clint’s, enjoying the weight of the archer on top of him and encouraging him to move. Clint groans again, hands clutching tightly at Phil and gasping his name as he rocks down creating delicious friction. Phil sucks in a sharp breath as Clint shifts, moving fully over him and finding a better position, biting his own lip, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. Phil leans up to take that bitten lip into his own mouth, to soothe over it with his tongue and dive back into kissing his lover.

Long minutes later Clint pulls away so that he can start mouthing down Phil’s neck, sucking wetly and making Phil’s hips jerk up against him. Phil feels the archer’s mouth curve into that sinful smile again as he enjoys Phil’s reactions to him and when Phil can drag his brain back online again he starts plotting all the ways he can think of to keep that smile on Clint’s face.

As he runs a hand through Clint’s short hair and whispers filthy encouragement, Phil gives thanks in his own head that they’ve managed to end up here despite everything. He makes a silent promise to himself and Clint that no matter what life throws at them, and with the Avenger’s luck that could be literally anything, he will never do anything to make Clint regret his choice. Then he goes back to work on proving to Clint and himself that he is fully recovered and ready for far more than light duties tonight.

**FIN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is folks, the last part! Sorry for the delay and I do hope it isn't an anti-climax because of it, turns out that while I'm a wicked fast speed reader I am a slow-worm of a writer when the rest of my life is hectic :-(
> 
> I want to take this opportunity to say a huge massive thank you to everybody who has read this story, everyone who has taken the time to subscribe, leave kudos or a comment to tell me what they've liked about this story. This was a bit of an experiment for me to see how I coped with writing in a chapter format and I'm quite pleased with the story but a bit disappointed with how things slowed down towards the end. I'm VERY grateful for all the support and good will encouraging me to get to this point, so again THANK YOU ALL for your feedback, you're wonderful, awesome people!


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